#student-led and student-driven

[7183-war]

[UNTITLED #07]

i was thinking about robot so hard i almost missed my turn

[fandoms-x-reader]

Overprotective and Ready to Fight - OM! Brothers

Requested By: @opiopal

Word Count: 2,972

Oneshot

Summary: Fighting a demon who spoke poorly about your love interest and winning.

You weren’t normally an angry person. You tried to be very calm and  kind. You were the one who talked others off the ledge, not the one who needed to be talked down. In all of your time in the Devildom, you were sure none of the brothers had a chance to see you get really angry.

But finals were coming up at RAD and you were under a tremendous amount of stress. You had been pouring every ounce of your energy into studying. You had been staying up late and skipping meals which you admitted had started to make you a bit cranky.

Today you had just found out that your teacher was adding an additional part to the final. A part that you hadn’t been studying for at all because you were under the pretense that you wouldn’t need to.

So, now your stress levels were incredibly high and on top of that you had dropped your lunch in the cafeteria so you were hangry. You were on the verge of having a complete mental breakdown and for some reason a popular demon had decided it would be fun to mess with you today.

They came up to you and began saying rude and nasty things about the demon brothers, particularly one of them. Normally, you would stomach the rude comments and move on, making sure to give the demon brothers extra love that night to make up for the terrible things that were said about them.

But as previously stated, you were having a bad day, and the demon just crossed a line. Wrath overtook you with every word they spoke until you completely snapped. You threw one good punch to the demon's jaw and a collective gasp broke out from the students that surrounded you.

Before you knew it, the demon began fighting back, using every advantage they had over you. But, you were so angry you didn’t care. How dare they talk about your demon like that? Who did they think they were? 

You fought with everything you had until you felt someone pulling you off the student. You turned to face them and your heart skipped a beat when you saw that it was Diavolo. He didn’t necessarily look angry, but he didn’t look very pleased either.

You turned your attention to the demon you had been fighting only to see they were also being restrained by Barbatos. Barbatos led them away and you turned to look at Diavolo. You knew you probably shouldn’t have snapped and started a fight, but if he heard what that demon was saying, he would understand!

You gave him a small smile before asking, “We don’t have to tell Lucifer about this, right?” Diavolo let out a small sigh. He wished that was true, for your sake. But, unfortunately, if Diavolo didn’t tell him and Lucifer managed to find out on his own, that would be a much worse situation.

So, here you were sitting in the infirmary at RAD. Your small wounds were being treated and you could hear muffled voices on the other side of the door. It was undoubtedly Diavolo telling your seven roommates what had happened. 

You winced when you heard the door to the infirmary open and you held your breath as you waited to see which one was coming in to talk to you.

You did what?!

Lucifer was absolutely livid. Not only did you put yourself in danger, but you had embarrassed Diavolo. What could have possibly driven you to such insanity?

He needed to know because the whole situation was absolutely preposterous to him. 

He entered the infirmary first, surprised to see how good you looked comparatively. He had passed the other demon as they were taken to a separate room and they looked a lot worse than you did.

He silently admitted he was surprised by your capabilities, especially considering the difference in strength and the fact that you had no magic or weapon.

But, this was no time to compliment you. 

You knew better than to speak when Lucifer was wearing his angry face so you remained silent as he approached the bed you were sitting on.

“What were you thinking?” Lucifer asked, his gaze falling to your hands where he noticed how bloody your knuckles looked.

“In my defense, this is technically all because of you,” you stated. Lucifer now looked shocked and furious. Were you really trying to place the blame on him? He hadn’t even been there!

Before he could respond angrily, you continued to say, “They were talking bad about you.”

That caught Lucifer off-guard. Were you telling him that the reason you fought the demon was because they were talking poorly about him? Did you realize he was the most powerful demon of his brothers and perfectly capable of fighting if need be?

Still, Lucifer couldn’t help the pride that began to swell in his heart. You fought on his behalf and won. He found it adorable that you went to such lengths to defend him. But, he couldn’t very well thank you in front of everyone.

So, he went with a neutral response. One that he hoped conveyed his true feelings behind the whole situation without betraying his image of power.

“No more fighting.”

Did Diavolo just say you picked a fight with a demon?

Mammon was beyond surprised at the news. You were just a fragile little human. What were you doing trying to fight demons?

The other demon passed by the group and Mammon’s heart dropped. They looked horribly beat up and if that’s what they looked like, he could only imagine what you looked like.

He couldn’t wait any longer. He needed to make sure you were okay. So, he quickly swung the door to the infirmary open, pausing when he saw you. 

You looked mostly fine. A couple of cuts and bruises and some bloody knuckles, but that was it. You practically destroyed the demon and came out looking like you took a small fall. Mammon made a mental note to never make you angry.

The doctor demon moved to wrap your hand and was a bit rough with it. You winced slightly and Mammon stepped in.

“You’re doing it wrong,” Mammon stated as he shooed the doctor away, taking over. He gently grabbed your hand and your eyes met his. “I know ya’ got guts, but isn’t this a little much?” Mammon asked, carefully wrapping your hand.

“They were saying some terrible things about you,” you replied, keeping your eyes on your injured hand. Mammon faltered for a moment at your words. No one had ever cared about him enough to fight for him. “Ya’ fought them because they were talkin’ trash about me?” Mammon asked.

“Well, wouldn’t you fight someone if they weren’t talking bad about me?” you questioned. Fair point. “Yeah, but I’m a demon,” he countered. 

Mammon finished wrapping your hand and told you, “Lucifer’s gonna give ya’ a long lecture for this.” Great. Just what you needed.

“But afterwards, do ya’ wanna come over and watch a movie?” Mammon questioned. He wanted to help make you feel better, especially after finding out you were fighting for him. You were his precious human and he wanted to make you feel that way.

Your eyes lit up at the idea and you immediately agreed. This is why you fought that demon - to stand up for the one that always made you feel better.

Levi didn’t typically go to RAD in person. He preferred to take all of his classes from the comfort of his room. But, he had made a special exception today and he was very glad he did.

He heard that something went down between you and another student, but it wasn’t until he was standing in the hallway with his brothers that he found out you had gotten in a fight.

As if on cue, the other demon walked past him and he took note of all of the damage. You did that much to a demon?!

Part of him wanted to make sure you were okay; but, also, Levi had to know how you pulled off such an amazing attack.

He entered the infirmary, a mix of excitement and fear built up inside of him. But, when he saw that you were mostly fine give or take a few bruises and cuts, nothing was left but his excitement.

Out of politeness, Levi still asked, “Are you okay?” But after you reassured him, he moved onto his more pertinent questions. 

“How did you manage to beat that demon up so badly?” he asked. You shrugged your shoulders before replying, “I was just so mad that I couldn’t stop punching.”

“What did they do to make you so mad?” Levi asked. He genuinely wanted to know what happened to turn you into a badass rage monster.

You gave Levi a small smile before telling him, “They decided to say awful things about you, spreading rumors left and right. I couldn’t stand it.”

Levi let out a startled noise before blushing furiously. You fought someone to defend him? Your coolness level just went up by a million points for him. 

Did that mean you liked him enough to think he was worth protecting?!

Levi will pull the security footage of the fight and make it an online sensation. No one would ever pick a fight with you again thanks to him.  

Satan knew something bad happened involving you the moment you started fighting. He could feel his sin radiating around him. It took him a moment to figure out it was coming from his pact symbol, but as soon as he did, he was on a mission to find you.

You were seriously angry right now. He could feel it. And he was a bit worried about what it would lead to. 

But he was too far to reach you before the fight ended and was left standing in the hall with his brothers while Diavolo explained what happened. 

Even though he felt your rage, he was still surprised when he found out you got in a fight; and, even more so when he saw the damage you did.

When Satan entered the infirmary and saw you he couldn’t help but smirk a bit. The demon didn’t stand a chance against you. 

You didn’t notice him at first, focused on your knuckles that the doctor was tending to. So, Satan walked up to the bed. He noticed that your eyebrows were still furrowed from residual anger and to Satan it made you look feisty like a kitten. And where others would have been deterred by it, the look drew Satan in.

“You’ve got a lot of anger in you,” Satan teased. “You’re one to talk,” you retorted and Satan let out a small chuckle. 

“What made you so mad?” he questioned. You let out a small sigh before replying, “They decided to say some rude things about you.”

Satan’s eyes widened slightly. That’s all it was? Some demon said some rude things about him and it sent you into that much of a rage? Were you that protective of him?

Satan couldn’t help but smile at you. You protected him in your own way and he would make sure to protect you from whatever punishment Lucifer decided to come up with.

But, he made you promise not to start another fight with a demon. Next time, you might not be so lucky and he didn’t want you putting yourself in danger.

You got in a fight? Were you hurt?

Asmo was freaking out right now. What if you bruised your delicate skin? Or worse, cut it?! 

His panicking was only worsened when he saw the demon walk by. He nearly fainted at the thought of you looking even half as bad.

He quickly rushed into the infirmary and relaxed a tiny bit when he realized your condition wasn’t even close to being as bad as the other demon’s.

But, your knuckles were bloody and you did have some bruises and cuts so he still wasn’t very happy.

“Y/N! Your poor knuckles! And skin! Why did you fight that demon?” Asmo asked frantically, his eyes filled with worry as he scanned over all of your features, surveying the damage.

“I was just trying to stand up for you,” you replied. “Me?!” Asmo asked, even more confused now. 

“They were saying some really rude things about you,” you replied honestly. Asmo’s heart swelled at your reasoning. You risked your own body to defend him.

“You’re soo cute,” Asmo stated pulling you into a hug and placing a few kisses on your cheek. He then moved and began placing kisses on each bruise and cut you received, spending extra time on your knuckles.

“As soon as we get a chance, I’m treating you to a spa day. We’ll get the best of everything and get you back to your perfect state in no time. There won’t be a blemish on you,” Amso told you, hugging you once more.

He’ll use his connections to spread terrible rumors about the demon who said those things about Asmo to ensure that they never start another fight with you.

He couldn’t handle the stress of seeing you bloody or bruised again.

Beel was the one who got in fights the most when it came to protecting his family. He was no stranger to it and was unphased by it. But what he didn’t expect was for Diavolo to tell him you got involved in a fight.

You must have had a good reason. You were normally so slow to anger. So whatever the demon said or did must have set you off.

He had seen the demon walk by the group and he couldn’t help but let out a small gasp. When Diavolo said you had gotten into a fight, he didn’t expect that it was to this extent. The demon could hardly walk on their own!

Beel entered the infirmary and walked straight up to the bed, grateful that you only had a few minor cuts and bruises. 

He carefully took your hand in his when he reached the bed and inspected the damage on your knuckles. He frowned a little before asking, “Does it hurt?”

“A little,” you replied. Beel nodded his head before questioning, “What did they do to make you so mad at them?”

“I didn’t like the things they were saying,” you replied. “Was it about food? I hate it when people talk negatively about food,” Beel stated.

You let out a small laugh before replying, “No, it wasn’t about food. It was about you, Beel.” 

Beel’s eyebrows furrowed a bit as he turned his head to the side, trying to understand. What could that demon have said about him that was so bad it made you start a fight?

“I just didn’t like hearing them say bad things about you when you’re so kind,” you added.

Beel immediately engulfed you in a hug. The demon had merely spoken a few unkind words about Beel and it managed to send you into a rage all to protect him.

But you were only a human and fighting demons was dangerous. “Next time, you tell me and I’ll fight them for the both of us,” Beel told you.

You nodded your head and Beel pulled out of the hug to ask, “Do you want to go eat? I bet you worked up an appetite.”

You appreciated the way Beel always made sure you were fed and taken care of.

Wait, were they talking about the same Y/N?

Part of Belphie wanted to bust out laughing at Lucifer and Diavolo’s faces. Surely they never thought you would be capable of starting a fight with a demon when this exchange program started.

However, when the other demon walked by, Belphie became concerned. They looked like they had just fought a war. Belphie’s main focus was now on making sure you were okay.

He quickly entered the room and let out a small breath of relief when he saw that you were okay. But, relief soon turned into confusion as he approached the bed. How did you come out with hardly anything more than some bloody knuckles?

“And I thought Satan was the hothead,” Belphie teased, giving you a small smile. You frowned at him in response before replying, “I had a bad day.”

Belphie let out a small snort at your words. “I don’t think having a bad day is a good enough reason to beat someone to a pulp,” Belphie replied.

You stayed silent, not wanting to give him your reason. “Come on, what’d they do?” Belphie asked curiously. 

“They talked bad about you,” you replied, avoiding his gaze. Belphie was surprised, to say the least. You did all this because that demon decided to smack talk? And about him nonetheless.

“My hero,” Belphie joked, and you rolled your eyes. In reality, Belphie was flattered that you cared enough about him to defend him. And he was glad that you didn’t get injured in the fight.

“Well, once Lucifer is done with the ten-hour lecture, I guess I have no choice but to take care of you. Since you fought for me and all,” Belphie stated and you only further pouted at him. His sarcastic nature was getting on your last nerve right now.

Belphie could see his quips weren’t amusing you, so he put his hands up in mock defeat before pulling you into a hug.

“Thank you,” he finally said as you rested your head against his chest. “You’re welcome,” you replied and Belphie couldn’t help but smile.

As soon as Lucifer was done with his scolding, he would make sure to give you lots of cuddles.

[angelicyouth]

Proscenium

⇢ pairing(s): multiple x newkid!reader

⇢ genre: identity reveal ; the stick of truth + the fractured but whole AU

⇢ synopsis: ❝The beginning of the new school year reveals to your friends that you were never a boy like they've always believed you to be, but a girl—and that you have been one the entire time that you've known them.❞

⇢ warning: recreational drug use

⇢ [AO3 link] ; [series masterlist]

⇢ note: this picks up years after the two video games that this AU takes place in (the flashbacks in this story are canon to the games) but can be read with no prior knowledge of them! :)

At thirteen years old, hormones slowly crept up into one’s life until puberty suddenly hit everyone all at once and all too fast. It was in the 8th grade that everyone came back from summer vacation different—what was once baby fat and ambiguous soft edges turned into more defined features and deeper voices. The appearance of girls altered in a way that could only be described as more developed, filling out in areas that they just didn’t used to.

Mr. Garrison decided that with this fresh transition into the beginning of their teenage years, that it would be a swell idea to teach his students about the notion of responsibility and of all the things that encompass it. This led to everyone sitting on the well-worn yet soft material of the fabric that adorns the chairs in the theater belonging to the town’s local middle school.

“Class, settle down now. I want all of you to know that before we begin, each and every one of you are talented. It may not be catered for the skills needed to succeed in theater, like singing or dancing. But don’t be ashamed of trying your best because I’ll find a job for every single one of you. Costume design, stagehand, the set—they’re just as important as the actors, ya’ hear me?” The older man says in reassurance at his heightened stance on the wooden stage, looking at the sea of students that had varying degrees of uncertainty and excitement on their faces.

With these tentative first steps into their young adulthood, everyone was feeling lingering traces of insecurity and confusion. It was the start of the years where the children of South Park were trying to explore themselves as individuals—trying to find out who they are and where they truly belonged. 

As such, it was also the time where they often felt too ‘cool’ to try hard in order to fit in with the rest of their peers. Everyone just wanted to belong, to not be labeled as an outcast. This was driven by certain people being naturally blessed by mother nature, their hormones making them conventionally attractive whereas some were struggling with artificial things for societal standards such as the condition of their skin or the metal bulk of their braces. 

It was the awkward stage of life where people were more self conscious, more self aware of how they looked and how they spoke—who they hung out with and what their interests were. This was the beginning of when people started paying closer attention to their sexuality, to the genders of the members that each person found themselves attracted to. 

It was also the beginning of when the boys started paying closer attention to Y/N L/N.

See, you had always hung out with the boys, often forgoing the likes of Wendy Testaburger or Bebe Stevens. Not because you didn’t like the group of girls in class (because they were still your dear friends, never forgetting to extend a personal invite to you for lunch on the weekends or to trips to the mall), but more so because the guys had claimed you first. They’re all you’ve ever known since the fourth grade—from when you were still the new kid to now, they’ve always been a constant presence both during school and after. 

You were there when the boys decided to dedicate their free time to live action role-playing games, like superheroes or fantasy. During the nights that were spent finding scrap fabric to put together and painting props for when they donned their multicolored costumes and created super aliases. Or when the Kingdom of Kupa Keep was at war with The Elves for the wooden relic that once possessed control of the whole entire universe.

The thing was, living in a mountain town like South Park meant that people typically adorned multiple, thick layers of material to help insulate themselves against the freezing temperatures. You, of course, weren’t an exception to the weather as you didn’t grow up here like the rest of your friends, which meant that you always kept either your hood up or wore a hat to keep yourself warm.

Granted, you didn’t find out until later on that your parents were actively trying to hide your identity from the government, but this inadvertently assisted in everyone misgendering you. It also didn’t help that you were silent in nature and therefore never bothered to correct anyone, but on the other hand, this earned you the fond nickname of ‘Douchebag’ and the boys never quite realizing that you were not a boy, but a girl.

・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

You were late for the first day of the school year, rushing to rip off all of the paper tags attached to the new clothing your mother bought for you when she realized how quickly you outgrew your wardrobe during the summer. Unsteadily hopping around on one foot with a toothbrush wedged into your mouth, you finally got a leg through the soft material of the skirt that you were going to wear for the day. 

Discreetly trying to open the heavy double doors leading to the school’s auditorium proves to be futile as everyone casts their bored eyes towards the disturbance at the back of the room anyways, seeking anything new to distract them from Garrison’s droning. Keeping your head lowered in an attempt to stay hidden, your legs rush to bring your body to where your group of friends were sitting.

“Uh, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Cartman arrogantly calls out when your body lands onto an unoccupied seat near him, your eyes automatically rolling as you lay your backpack on the floor beside your feet.

“Aye! I’m fucking talking to you!” The larger teen yells in indignation when you continue to ignore him, his face heating up in anger when the guys begin to snicker behind their hands as you continue to ignore him.

Heaving his body up, Cartman leans closer to your seated form to roughly yank the hood off of your head to identify the current bane of his existence. This, however, leads him to be swept in confusion as the rest of the guys similarly halt their vocal amusement. “Who the fuck..?”

“Y/N—are you here? You’re up next to audition.” Garrison calls out, the boys quickly whipping their heads when they see you haul your form up to begin your ascent to the stage.

“What the fuck are you doing?! N/N’s not some lame, pussy-having bitch!”

A tired sigh resounds from the older teacher’s mouth because it was way too early to be dealing with this shit. “Eric, Y/N has been a girl for the past four years that she’s been living in South Park. Nothing has changed except for your attention to details.”

“Wh—no he isn’t!” He sputters.

The guys stare at you in varying levels of disbelief and confusion, watching as you tuck visibly soft strands of hair behind your ear while Mr. Garrison passes you a script. Not only are you wearing a damn skirt (which the boys greedily eye as they showcase your long and smooth legs), but your jacket is unzipped for the first time that they’ve met you (in your haste to get ready, your scrambled brain forgot to properly zip it all the way up).

Due to this, they could see the way that the fabric of your top hugs your developing curves in all of the right places—cinching the delicate slopes of your waist and allowing them to see the growing but still notable bust that your outerwear has never revealed. It is then that their admittedly slow brains catches them up on the long lashes that gently kisses the red skin of your still-cold cheeks everytime that you blink and how under the fluorescents of the stage lights, the pretty pink of your plump lips are further accentuated to slicked perfection.

“... Douchebag..?” Butters hesitatingly calls out, his voice meek in the sudden revelation of information on their long-time friend.

Busy reading the ink running along the script within your hands, the boys become shocked to muteness when your head belatedly lifts up in attention to the sound of your nickname. Your head tilts to the side in question when no one speaks, your disinterested eyes patiently waiting for the verbal reason that they called out to you. 

“No fucking way.” They all seem to chorus because…

… When in the hell did the notoriously mute member of their group become so hot?

・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

“I call dibs!” Clyde yells out as soon as the boys step just one foot onto the cold linoleum that covers the hallway’s floors when the last class before the lunch period is dismissed.

“Wh—you can’t fucking do that!” Kenny indignantly cries out, the blonde angrily pushing his parka’s hood back so that he can properly argue. 

“Hell yeah, I can! Wanna know why?” The brunette smugly continues, his arms crossed in self satisfaction for speaking up first as all the guys begin to glare at him.

“Well, I’m super handsome and insanely funny! I play sports so my hot bod is just as amazing as my smile and I’m clearly so generous and kind and nice since I’m giving you assholes multiple reasons instead of one!” He childishly finishes off, a cheeky grin stretching wide on his face even as Kenny grabs him by the collars of his letterman jacket to roughly slam him against the metal surface of the nearest locker.

“What?!” The blonde screams into his face in frustration.

“That’s fucking lame, dude. If you think N/N is going to settle for some shallow, narcissistic asshole then there’s no point of claiming her first.” Stan angrily spits out, the skin in between his eyebrows furrowed and his fingers fidgeting with the spark wheel of his lighter as he lazily leans beside where Clyde and Kenny are trying to throttle each other.

“Says the self-proclaimed rizzler who gets an upset twummy wummy when a cute girl so much as looks in your direction, barf breath.” Kenny mocks in a baby voice, the blonde halting in his attempted murder as his brunette victim begins to obnoxiously laugh at his assailant’s quip.

“Oh gee fellas… Well if it’s first come first serve, then I guess I’ll be getting this one. See ya!” Butters quickly tries to walk away from the group before Craig grabs him by the neckline of his crewneck, effectively choking the blonde until he stops trying to escape.

“And how the hell does that make any sense?” The taller ravenette asks, an eyebrow condescendingly quirked up and his fist unwillingly to let go lest the blonde tries to pull a fast one again.

“Wuh—well because! I’m the first person that met her, don’tcha fellers remember? I was the one to bring her to Kupa Keep when she first moved in so I’m her oldest and dearest buddy!” Everyone stops walking as they display unamused looks on their faces at the explanation, causing the captured teen to nervously rub his knuckles together at their joined silence. 

Kyle rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, “Yeah—by like, 5 minutes! And I don’t think you should be proud of that encounter because you were getting your ass handed to you when she met you.”

“And what’s wrong with that? N/N is strong and fearless and kind—why, she’s simply a bajillion times more noble for rescuing me when she didn’t even know me! That’s more than you fellas with your constant teasing, and you’ve all known me since we were babies!” The blonde pouts as he soothingly rubs the front of his now tender neck when Craig finally lets go.

Cartman deeply sighs, bringing a hand up to smooth the crease in between his eyebrows. “Just shut the fuck up, Butters. Y/N’s not here for you to suck her apparently non-existent dick, you fucking kiss ass.”

“Whatever. You guys are acting like a bunch of stupid virgins.” Craig is expressionless as they reach the back of the school where the loading bay is, the chullo-wearing teen leaning against the wall as he leisurely watches Kenny unceremoniously plop down on the asphalt and pull a bong out of his backpack.

“Says you! Why the fuck do you even care?! I thought you liked it up the ass, you goddamn cocksucker!” Cartman is quick to yell, shoving both his hands in his jacket’s pockets to generate more warmth against the freezing Colorado air. He contemplates shoving his hands down Butters’ sweater to steal his warmth—didn’t they say that idiots couldn’t catch colds?

“Nyah! We like girls, t-too!” Tweek says, glancing at his ex-boyfriend as the ravenette flashes a vulgar middle finger that he annoyingly sticks into the larger teen's irritated face.

“Now that’s just fucking greedy.” The brunette scoffs, roughly pushing Craig’s arm away as the ravenette savagely snickers.

“That’s rich coming from the selfish fatass who can eat three times his weight in one sitting. Wouldn’t want N/N to suffocate on a date with you when you can’t see her over your huge fucking double chin and accidentally sit on her.” Kyle snarks as he rolls his eyes while Stan wheezes and mimics having a makeshift double chin by angling his head as low as it can against his collarbones to make the skin bulge.

Cartman loudly retorts as he roughly pushes away the ravenette’s laughing face, “It’s funny you say that when you have a fat bitch mom yourself, Kahl! Tell me: did she keep pushing even when you were already out of her gaping pussy because she couldn’t see you over her saggy fucking tits?!”

“All of you are greedy assholes! You guys can’t be good bros just this once and let me have this one?” Clyde pouts, the brunette sliding his back down against the wall until he’s seated on top of the gritty surface of his skateboard.

“No.” Everyone simultaneously deadpans.

“Blah blah blah—okay, now who wants to say grace before I light this baby up?” Kenny smirks up at the guys as he packs a bowl, Stan snorting a laugh as he playfully punches the blonde on the arm when he hands him his lighter.

“You know, it doesn’t really matter who calls dibs when it’s Y/N who gets to decide who she wants to be with. You can’t force her into anything just because we’ve found out that she’s been a girl this whole entire time. She’s not an object for us to claim.” Kyle resolutely states when it doesn’t seem like a decision will be (peacefully) made, causing the redhead to resort to logic and sense.

“He’s got a point.” Tolkien mutters, the only one not fighting over you as he texts his long-time girlfriend Nichole Daniels.

“Oh, shut the hell up with your unicorns and rainbows pussy talk, you stupid fucking Jew! You’re only saying that sappy shit because you know damn well that she won’t pick you even if you did get dibs!” Cartman retorts before dramatically pinching his nose when Kenny rips the bong and obnoxiously exhales the smoke into the brunette’s face.

“Aw, sick! Your low quality shit stinks!”

“Mmm, I think that’s just your upper lip that you’re smelling, fat boy. You do know that if you’re not properly dusting the crumbs off of your greasy mouth after every meal, the food will eventually go bad and rot?” The blonde lazily grins as he hands Craig the bong.

“Look, all I’m saying is that it’d be best to just give her to me. Isn’t it less embarrassing for you guys if Y/N chooses me because I have dibs as opposed to her rejecting all of you, only to still like me anyways because you’re all just ugly and stinky and boring?” Clyde pouts up at the guys, his body swaying from side to side as he rolls his skateboard in one place.

“Sorry Donovan—but I’m not letting a fine piece of ass like Y/N go without a fight, even if I have to fight a bro for her.” Kenny says as he leisurely watches Stan cough after taking a fat rip from the smoking device.

“Didn’t think you were the type to work for it, McWhoredick. With all the easy people you usually go for on the daily, I don’t think it’d be cool for you to just hit it and quit it like you usually do.” Craig straightens up from his previously laid back slouch against the wall, his clenched jaw slightly lifting up as he looks down at Kenny from his heightened stance.

The blonde takes that as a challenge as he stands up from the floor, his hands quick to shoot out and roughly shove at the ravenette. “You’re a fucking bastard, you know that? Fuck you. I wouldn’t do that shit to Y/N.” 

A hand grabs the material of Kenny’s parka at his elbow to stop the altercation from escalating even further, Tweek’s other hand tightly clutching onto the buttons of his top in anxiety. “I-I don’t know, dude… She’s our best friend, you know? That’d be really fucked up.” 

Kenny rips his arm away from the other blonde and eyes every single person in the group with no trace of his usual, carefree stance. “Seriously? Well I think it’s fucked up that you guys suddenly have feelings for her just because it’s been revealed that she’s actually a girl.” 

And when no one says anything, the blonde scoffs. “I’ve always flirted with her since we were kids. Sure, I might have covered it up by passing it off as a lighthearted joke because of my personality so that she couldn’t outright reject me, but it doesn’t make whatever I said to her less true.”

Kenny continues, “And I may be a ‘whore’ but I’m not a messy bitch who’d carelessly do shit like that with someone in our own damn friend group, especially to someone who means so much to me like Y/N. But let it be known: I was always transparent with how I felt and how cute I thought she was even when I thought she was a boy.”

And he was right—your earliest memories of being new in South Park were, naturally, of meeting new people. And when you talked to Karen McCormick for the first time during a day of playing your group’s fantasy game, she had told you right off the bat:

“Oh, hey! You’re the new kid! My sister, the princess, texted me about you. She thinks you’re cute.”

“That’s… That isn’t true.” Stan hesitantly speaks up once the silence seemed to stretch on.

The area of skin between his eyebrows are furrowed as he looks away from the group to avoid looking at anyone's reaction to his words. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket and his teeth lightly nips away at his bottom lip in notable distress.

Kyle is visibly surprised at this revelation, “…Stan?” 

The ravenette still doesn’t look over at his best friend or at anyone in the group, deeming the sight of the school’s janitor emptying out the trash a more interesting sight as he continues, “I uh—there was a time when I felt guilty. I thought I only liked girls but then I started seeing Y/N differently. It freaked me out because I was always into Wendy, y’know?” 

Stan nervously mumbles, “I don’t know when it happened or how, but it was like I suddenly started noticing everything she did. My eyes kept automatically looking for her: to see her reaction when someone said or did something—if I could catch a glimpse of her rare smile or hear her quiet laughter. Even if there was nothing to see, I just liked to know that she was there and that she was okay.”

He begins to furrow his eyebrows as he continues, “I tried to convince myself that I was just being overprotective over a bro because of how quiet she is, but we all know that was just a shit excuse because she can beat all of our asses if she wanted to. And it’s not like I’ve ever felt that way with any of you so it couldn't be that—no offense, Butters.” 

“It’s okay, Stan!” The blonde quickly tries to reassure the ravenette before he yelps when Cartman snickers and slugs him on the arm.

“No, I… I get it. Me too, actually.” Now it’s Stan’s turn to look shocked when he finally looks over at Kyle, the redhead sporting a madly growing blush as his hand shyly comes up to nervously rub the back of his neck at his own admission. 

“What?! Yeah-fucking-right! Quit dickriding by copying your little boyfriend just to make him jealous!” Cartman yells out in disbelief. 

“Shut the fuck up! It was…,” Kyle takes a moment to carefully think of the right term to eloquently express his feelings. “Confusing, right?”

He feels somewhat relieved and comforted when Stan silently nods in agreement, the gesture reassuring him and validating his experience as he feels more encouraged to speak up. “I don’t know when the lines between platonic and romantic feelings were beginning to blur. I couldn’t tell if I was just mixing them up together or something because of the amount of time I spent with her but after some admittedly long nights of overthinking and panicking, I figured that it didn’t matter because it was Y/N.”

The others notice that Kyle’s voice becomes increasingly louder in confidence as he becomes more sure of his fondness over their missing member, “Even if she never came to reciprocate whatever I was harboring for her, I knew my feelings would be safe with her even if she knew about it because that’s just the kind of person she is. When I finally realized that, it was no wonder that I fell for someone like her. And so, I stopped fighting what I was feeling and was just satisfied as long as I had her by my side, even if it was as a friend.”

It’s quiet for a moment as everyone thinks to themselves, the air somber with only the sounds of the janitor rolling away the trash can being heard as he walks back into the warmth of the school building. The double door loudly closes behind him, blocking out the noise of students inside talking as silence once again pervades the area.

“Well, all this talk about feelings and shit is amazing and not in the least bit boring but I’ve never been confused with how I felt since I already knew I swung both ways. I’m only doing something about it now because you fuckers are going to go for her and like hell am I just going to let that happen without trying.” Craig interrupts, his eyes lingering on Tweek to let him know that he wasn’t afraid to make his ex his rival in this endeavor either.

“Yeah! ‘Cause we all know that she’s only going to settle for one of you poor bastards if her first choice isn’t pursuing her.” Clyde boasts, his chest proudly puffed out as he points one of his thumbs at his own smiling visage to indicate that he was the aforementioned 'first choice'.

Craig snickers at his friend’s unbridled confidence as he shoves the brunette and leans over to snatch the glass bong out of Stan’s hands to take another hit. As he lights the bowl, Kenny pushes the taller teen’s face away at the very last second to inhale the smoke instead.

Cartman scoffs as he snarks the group, “You guys are a bunch of fucking simps. Did your feelings make all of you lame-o pussies? Or did all of your periods somehow sync up today?” 

Everyone, as always, tunes him out and ignores him. 

“Damn. Some shitty friends we are—we never even noticed such a big thing about someone we claim to fucking like.” Stan bitterly laughs, forcing the guys to remember the small comments they ignorantly made to you when you were all still kids:

Cartman: You know, you have kind of pretty hair for a boy. You better not be a hippie or something.

Jimmy: I thought feminine-looking guys went out of style in the 80’s, but the new kids pulling it off.

Clyde: You kind of have big raisins for a boy, New Kid.

Scott: I’ve never seen a boy with such soft skin, what’s your secret?

Butters: Hey, Butthole. Anyone tell you for a boy you’re kinda pretty?

Kenny: You kind of remind me of my sister—I have this weird urge to protect you.

Stan: You know, for a boy you’re kind of feminine New Kid.

Kyle: There’s nothing wrong with a boy being feminine, be true to yourself.

“How are you guys so sure that she even likes boys? You were wrong about her gender and you could be wrong about this too.” Wendy slyly says to the pondering group as she passes by, Bebe giggling at her companion’s words as the boys snap out of their reminiscing.

Before they walk away too far, the female blonde decides to further antagonize the guys as she sticks out a tongue at them. “Didn’tcha know? Wendy knew that Y/N was a girl since the day that she moved in and you stupid boys didn’t!”

Cartman’s mouth drops open as everyone watches the two walk away in disbelief, “That fucking bitch.”

・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

“Sorry for keeping you from lunch, Douchebag! Ah, my bad. Can I still call you that or..?” Scott Malkinson says as he blushes in embarrassment (and for seeing the entirety of your newly revealed face up close for the first time), his hand going up to rub at the brown tufts of hair at the back of his head.

“I mean, no problem if you’re not comfortable with it or have always disliked it! You probably wouldn’t want to go by Buttlord and stuff anymore too…” He nervously mumbles to himself.

You just offer a small nod in comfort as your eyes soften around the edges, your hands busy with stapling the packet of papers holding the directions for your two-person research essay for your shared science class before handing it to him. There didn’t seem to be a point in pulling up your hood anymore (reminiscent of the way Kenny often did) when the boys finally figured out you were a girl.

Zipping open his backpack, you patiently watch as Scott tucks away the report’s instructions for safekeeping in a folder before he offers you a bashful smile. He softly knocks a fist into your arm, “Hey. I really am sorry for misgendering you this whole time. Girl or boy, you’ll always be my trusty sidekick. Right, superpal?”

“Woah there, Malkinson! You’re not tryna pull a fast one on our girl when we aren’t looking, are ya’?” Your attention shifts at the sound of Clyde’s voice, an arm being thrown over your shoulders as he protectively pushes you against his body. “You sly dog, you!”

From your peripherals, you see the other guys walking to catch up to where you are as Stan locks an arm around your science partner's neck to put him into a headlock and roughly tousle his hair. You disinterestedly look away when Kenny comes up to you with a wide smile, the blonde reaching an arm out to dap you up in greeting as per usual.

However, instead of stepping back after your half hug, he pulls on your interlocked hands to take you out of Clyde’s clutches and keeps you against his chest. Kenny’s larger hands slowly settles themselves against the curves of your waist as he presses his smile against the column of your neck.

“Missed me, beautiful?” He says, his lips evoking a cacophony of goosebumps as they ever so slightly skim against the soft expanse of your skin after every word.

“Knock it off, bastard. She doesn’t need your rank breath and your dirty hands on her.” Craig angrily mutters out as he pulls you away, only for a pair of arms to sneak around your waist from behind before someone’s chin plants itself onto one of your shoulders.

Kenny scoffs, obnoxiously trying to put said hands onto the taller ravenette’s face. “Your poor people stereotypes don’t do anything to hurt me, Craigory baby! Enjoy, because I decided to rub out a quick one before school started!”

”Fucking gross, you fucking shithead!”

Your face is as expressionless as always as you turn to identify your newest captor, a pout resting on Butters’ face. “That’s not fair Ken, and you know it!”

“Hey, you assholes said it yourselves: I’m always like this. So I’m not quite sure what you’re accusing me of, Butters. Unless you’re projecting your own ulterior motives onto lil’ old me?” Kenny has a lazy smile on his attractive face as he crosses his arms behind his head.

You don’t get to lean your body into Butters’ hold for too long before you feel someone’s hand sneak into the crook of your arm, trying to pull you out of your surrounding warmth. When you see that it’s Tweek fidgeting by your side, you place a reassuring hand on his own as you assume that his anxieties are getting out of control and needed comfort.

“Ngh! Y-you all need to leave her alone!” He yells, swiftly turning over his hand palm side up so that he can interlock your fingers together.

“Don’t be nice to him, Douchebag! He’s just faking it so that you’ll feel bad! The whole ‘liking it up the ass’ thing? It was all a FUCKING ACT!” Cartman indignantly shouts as he tries to separate your hands from each other, the blonde barista trying his hardest to not let go.

“Fuck you, ack! It just d-didn’t work out between us!” Tweek defends himself as he tries to bite the brunette’s unrelenting hands off.

“No fucking shit—I can see why! Neither one of you have pussies. As I said already: you’re a bunch of fake homos who did it for money and attention!” Cartman yells before he loudly yelps from the blonde’s teeth finally breaking through his skin.

“Sick, dude. You might want to get tested for HIV… Or rabies.” Kyle grimaces as he watches Tweek hurriedly spit into the nearest trash can.

“And don’t be an ignorant piece of shit, fatass. You can still be a girl and not have a vagina.” The redhead continues while crossing his arms. 

“Meh meh meh.” Cartman mocks in a high pitched voice to which Kyle just stares back unamused, “Shut the fuck up, god! You’re talking to someone who was fucking transginger before! Of course I fucking know that! And have some goddamn tact next time, asshole—I was going through a lot of shit so it was a dark time for me back then!”

"Wh—You brought up you being transgender yourself, dumbass!"

Tolkien tiredly sighs at everything going on before handing Tweek his hydro flask to gargle its contents, a frenzied mantra of oh god’s being repeated between mouthfuls of water. He soothingly pats the blonde on the back as the barista bends over, hysterically heaving in panic while Kenny watches and cackles in amusement.

“Yeah, Y/N. You have an unnatural allegiance to losers.” Stan side eyes the two as he finally lets go of Scott, the brunette yelling out hasty goodbyes in order to escape the apparent arguing and to fix his messed up hair.

“Which is exactly why she keeps you around, Stanley.” Craig is quick to snark while he roughly pulls Cartman away from trying to get even with Tweek.

“Not true!” He yells.

Craig stares blankly at the protesting ravenette, “Uh-huh… Staniel, tell me: what medications are you on again?” 

“For my depression? Uhh, Lexapro. I think. Why?”

“I think they need to switch you to the stronger shit or rediagnose you because right now, you’re being fucking delusional. We smoked the same shit just now so I know it’s not whatever strain Kenny has that’s fucking you up.” Craig dismisses, using his height to his advantage as he condescendingly pats Stan hard on the back of his neck and causes him to stumble.

“Oh fuck you—“

Kenny impatiently interrupts, the blonde pulling you away. “As much as I love me some fucking, let’s just go to lunch already! You guys can bitch all you want in the cafeteria—I’m hungry!”

“You’re always hungry though, poor ass.” Cartman mumbles as everyone starts to move.

“Says you, lard-ass! And fuck you, I’m stoned.”

・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

The lunch room is as noisy as ever from where you stand, your disinterested eyes looking around while your arms get recklessly tugged back and forth. You don’t pay any mind to the curious stares of any passerby and those sitting near your standing position as you’ve already grown used to the unwarranted attention your friends always seem to attract from their antics.

“N/N is sitting with me!” Clyde yells out to which the brunette emphasizes with a pull on the arm of yours that he's tightly hugging to his chest.

“She sat next to you yesterday when we went out and got pizza for lunch, you greedy asshole!” Kenny argues back as he resolutely plants his feet against the cafeteria floor, not budging from where your hands are intertwined.

“Not fair—I haven’t sat next to my buddy all week when we've eaten.” Butters pouts from where he stands in front of you as his hands grab hold of your jacket and his fingers mindlessly fiddles with the zipper of it.

With one last tug, Kenny guides you over to the group's designated table before the other two can react and offers a solution. “Here: my princess can just sit on my lap so that the both of you crybabies can still sit next to her.” 

The blonde demonstrates by settling you over his thighs before he tightly locks his arms around your waist, sending a cheeky smile over your shoulder at the flabbergasted blonde and brunette still standing up. “There! Problem solved. Fuck, I’m a genius.” 

Kyle rolls his eyes as he takes your tray of food in his unoccupied hand and places it on the table between his own and Stan’s, causing Kenny to pout when you stand up to obediently sit at wherever your lunch is. Once sat, you watch as the ushanka-wearing teen opens up the plastic holding your utensils before he hands you your spork.

“Y/N.” You blankly turn your head away from your food to face Clyde.

The brunette leans over the table to wipe a smidge of sauce that was left on your face with his thumb, his finger lingering at the edge of your bottom lip. “You got something on your pretty face.”

Your eyes dart towards his finger when he pulls away to show you the hint of food he wiped off before you lean forward to lick it off of his finger for him. Clyde’s grin stretches impossibly wide across his face at your welcomed action, both of his elbows planting themselves on top of the table that he was still laying his stomach over as he cups his cheeks with his hands and brings his legs up to delightedly kick them back and forth like a lovesick schoolgirl. 

“Fucking knock it off, Clyde!” The brunette yelps out of his daze when Craig grabs one of his swinging feet to roughly yank him off of the table.

“Dude.” Stan forlornly stares at his knocked over can of soda, the carbonated liquid thankfully spilling onto the floor and not on anyone’s clothes.

“You’re a fucking try-hard, you know that?!” Cartman yells as he fumbles to catch his opened pack of snacky cakes before they fall onto the dirty cafeteria floor from the other brunette’s actions.

Clyde is unable to verbally defend himself against the larger teen as he tries to hold his hand as close to his chest as possible while fending off Kenny with the other. While he gently cradles his appendage to his body, the blonde tries to get the prized finger to himself for a chance at an indirect kiss. 

“Talk about desperate. You beg for sex like you beg for food, McCormick.” Craig mumbles as everyone watches the fighting pair in a mixture of disgust and disappointment. 

“Wuh-what’s going on, fellas?” Jimmy asks as he takes a seat besides a stressed out Tolkien, the teen irritatedly rubbing his temples with his eyes closed to soothe the quickly growing headache he was developing. 

“Jimmy! Finally, someone sane. I’m going crazy—they keep fighting over Y/N.”

“Competition? F-f-for what? They say girls love someone funny and I’ve already made Y/N laugh the most in the past!” The brunette proudly boasts before Tolkien bemoans the loss of who he thought was his only ally.

It's only the first day of school, the wealthy teen thinks to himself in dread as he begins to wonder if he should start sitting with Timmy instead.

・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

Taking a sip of your chilled juice makes you slightly shiver, causing Stan to notice from his close proximity to you. Dusting off his hands together to take away any remnants of crumbs leftover from his brownie, the ravenette reaches over to zip your jacket up after he deems his hands clean enough to not leave a stain.

From the next seat over, Craig notices the interaction and what caused it so he takes it upon himself to place his beloved chullo on the top of your head. He reaches across from the front of Stan’s chest and in result, roughly pushes him away (he almost falls ass first out of the bench he's sitting on) as he takes care to ensure that both of your ears are properly covered.

The taller teen simply smirks when the ravenette glares at him for one-upping him—Craig’s hat providing additional warmth and even displaying a mark of possession that simply zipping up your outerwear couldn’t provide for other students to see. Their silent but heated stare-off gets interrupted when someone uses the earflaps from Craig’s chullo to forcibly turn your head to another direction.

“Douchebag, come over to mine after school. My mom got me that new video game we were talking about last week and you’d be a stupid loser to not be one of the first people in town to play it.” Cartman demands after he lets go of the soft material to resume devouring his lunch.

“No can do, fatfuck. Y/N already promised to go to my house so that we can do homework together.” Kyle interrupts with a self-satisfied grin on his face that only serves to make the brunette loudly slam his hands on the surface of the table in anger.

“Ooo, group study session at Kyle’s house after school?” Butters perks up at his own suggestion, an innocent grin adorning his face as he looks at everyone at the table for confirmation. 

“Fuck you, I didn’t invite any of you bastards over except for her.”

“Ditch them, babe—Karen misses you! Why don’t you come over to my house instead so you can visit her? I'll even hold your hand while we walk to Casa de Sexy so you won't be too cold!” Kenny jumps at the opportunity to speak up first after Kyle’s dismissal over Butters' self-invitation.

But at the way everyone blankly stares at him, the blonde tries to clarify, "You know... The Sex Dungeon™?"

The boys all roll their eyes (no ones refers to Kenny's house that way) before their attention shifts as they see you visibly perk up. You straighten your back at the mention of the blonde’s younger sister, making Craig furrow his eyebrows together.

“Oh, fuck off. First of all, your Spanish accent is so fucking trash that I thought you were having a mini seizure before I figured out that the actual garbage that came out of your mouth was from a genuine attempt to communicate and that your face just always looks like that. Second of all, if she wanted grime and shit all over her hands then she can just stick em' in between one of the many folds on Cartman's body until whatever inhabits musty and moist places decides to nibble onto her fingers. And lastly, if there’s anyone that Y/N wants to see the most, it’s Stripe.”

"Wow, Tucker. I honestly didn't think I'd live to see the day that your slow-ass could count up to the number three all on your own." Kenny sarcastically drawls in a monotonous voice.

Kyle lets out a condescending snort, "He's not lying. Four billion years of evolution and what? You're the result? We're fucked, man—you still stutter in confusion between the numbers two and three when we order take-out. And even if we did correct every genetic defect you have, I can bet that the number four is still wishful thinking from all of us."

"Fuck you guys! I got sent to Kumon once and that was fucking years ago!" Craig tries to defend himself over the roar of laughter that his words invoke, reminding everyone of the time that his parents had a fleeting worry over their son's education.

They didn't think he had dyslexia or anything (the boys would say otherwise in jest)—it was just numbers that were the problem. But this was only because the ravenette used to smoke before math class and as a result, would inadvertently bomb his tests.

When the snickers begin to die down, Stan is left unamused as he pushes around his vegetables with his spork, the ravenette mumbling under his breath as his chin rests on his open palm. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. And for a damn rat? I don't fucking think so. But I mean, at least he’s not using his own sibling as a cheap way to get her to visit. Not like I can do the same when I only have a bitch older sister at home.”

“Oh! How about a pet play date then! I can bring Rex!” Clyde excitedly contributes to Craig’s last point, only for the ravenette to glare at him when they make eye contact.

"Wait, then I can bring Sparky—"

Kyle interrupts Stan before the conversation can escalate even further, “What the fuck! No! I already told my ma that Y/N is coming over so she’s making extra dinner.” 

“Then there’s enough food for all of us to come over tonight.” Cartman says around a mouthful of chicken with an air of finality.

“That’d add another 30 servings on just you alone. So no, fatass, there isn’t enough food for you in my house or even in the whole entire goddamn grocery store that can satisfy the endless void that’s your fucking stomach.” Kyle argues back as his face contorts in disgust at the brunette’s lack of decorum at the lunch table, his hands quickly shooting out to shield both his and your lunch from any spit or stray bits of food.

“Aye!”

You patiently wait for him to take his hand away from where it’s hovering protectively over your tray but as you do, you get distracted from their bickering when Butters holds out a spoonful of his fruit cup. “Here, little buddy! I know how much you like this flavor.”

Your eyes soften around the edges in thanks as you lean forward to eat it directly out of his spork, the blonde’s hand kindly waiting for you to chew before he pulls the utensil away and continues to eat his snack. 

“Ack!” Tweek hurriedly fumbles to pour out a cup of still-warm coffee from his metal tumbler, his eyebrows furrowing in intense concentration as he tries to reign in his shaking hands to bring the portable cup up to your face for a sip without spilling.

Clyde watches in disbelief as you bring your body as close as you can from your seat at the table to drink the blonde’s offering, causing him to hurry with sticking a cheesy poof halfway into his mouth. “Here, N/N! Have some of this!”

Kyle’s eyes widen when he sees you starting to lean your face forward in the brunette’s direction, his hands shooting out to stop you from moving any further to give the brunette an opportunity for a kiss. “Y/N! No, goddammit!”

You blankly stare at the teen for interrupting before something moves in your peripherals, your eyes darting to the side to see Craig patiently holding out a chip towards you. As you turn your body towards his, he pulls it away from your face at the very last second.

“Sit next to me in class and I’ll give you a piece.” He smirks when you nod before taking a bite of the proffered snack out of his hand.

Kenny overhears and bitterly tsk’s to himself before placing a hand across the table with his palm facing up, his fingers wiggling as he also attempts to gain your favor through food. Your head cocks to the side at the action before you obediently place your hand on top of his, the blonde interlocking your fingers together as he brightly smiles at his success.

“Good girl.” He gently coos at you as he feeds you a piece of his cookie, his cerulean orbs watching you in endearment when you chew the dessert before he gives your linked appendages a soft squeeze. 

Once eaten, the blonde uses his now unoccupied hand to pet the top of your head to which Stan sneers at. “Quit it, dude. She’s not one of your pet rats for you to coddle.”

“And what about me?! You fuckers never share any food whenever I ask!” Cartman slams both of his hands down onto the surface of the table (again), causing all of its seated occupants to roll their eyes as they settle their rattling cans of soda and water bottles from tipping over.

“You’re spouting bullshit—I’ve offered you food before.” Craig disinterestedly says as he takes the rest of Kenny’s cookie to prevent him from feeding you again and shoves it all in his mouth in one go.

“Only when you’ve dropped it on purpose and told me to eat it from the fucking floor if I wanted it so badly, you bastard!”

The ravenette merely shrugs, not seeing a fault in his actions as he pushes away the raging blonde trying to punch him. “Boo-fucking-hoo, dude. It’s the same shit. Bitches can’t be choosers or however that saying goes.”

At his words, the edges of your lips unconsciously quirk up into a small smile. It’s like Hell freezes over as everyone stops whatever they’re doing to get a glimpse of a sight so rare to see from your usually blank face.

“Quick! Take a picture! Take a fucking picture!” Clyde yelps at Kenny's demand as his hands fumble in their haste to rip his cellphone out of his jacket’s pocket.

You wonder to yourself why you’ve maintained the façade of being a boy when the dangers of the government trying to find you stopped being a threat so long ago. Maybe, you’ve unconsciously been trying to continue the lie because the person everyone thought you were when you were the "male Y/N" was the one that your friends already found themselves loving and enjoyed being around.

And who would take such a risky chance at changing such a beautiful thing like the precious friendship that this dysfunctional group of boys brought you?

But with the way that everyone is acting after the initial nerve-racking reveal of your true identity from this morning, you find it silly that you ever thought for a second that you might have disappointed your friends with who you really were. Because right now, as you see everyone around the table watching you with eyes that look at you as if you held the whole entire universe in just the palm of your small hands, you let yourself know that there wasn’t anything to ever worry about.

At this thought, your smile slowly widens until a full set of pearly white teeth makes their appearance and a beautiful hue of pink paints the apples of your cheeks. This seemingly knocks any incoming words from leaving the boy's mouths as they watch in stunned silence. 

You giggle over the din of chattering students in the cafeteria, causing the guys to lean even closer than before to hear the melodic sound of your rare laughter. “It’s beggars can’t be choosers, dumbfuck.” 

a/n: ((i truly tried writing jimmy as a love interest because duh, it's not team craig without him!! but for the life of me, i cannot write him in fics & i really don't know why **sobs**))

[torukmaktoskxawng]

Happy Little Accident

Pairing: So'lek/Avatar!Fem!Reader

Summary Here

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, (alien) pregnancy trope, only mentioned smut but strongly detailed, mentioned p in v (wrap it you skxawngs), one-night stand, swearing, hinted unwanted pregnancy, mention of labor, at least one use of Y/n, proofread by me, time jumps, etc.

Word Count: 6k+

Request By: @inolaphoenix

Taglist: @taronyuhunter @jakesullyfatjuicypeen @mooniequeen @avatar-lover

~~~~~~~~~

The moment Priya gave you the blood work on your avatar, you knew you were in deep shit with Alma.

Obviously, humans make mistakes all the time. These things happen. But you didn't have much of an excuse because you were in your avatar form when it happened, and normally, you hate it when people blame alcohol for their mistakes. In your mind, that's not an excuse. You would be a hypocrite if you did the same when Alma finds out your avatar is pregnant.

It was undeniably strange to be pregnant in one body and... empty in the other. After Priya gave you your results, you stayed out of the link bay for a week, too weirded out by the idea. That whole time you remained in your human body, you tried your best to figure out what to do and who to tell.

You should tell So'lek... right? After all, he played his part in this as well. A part of you felt guilty. He rarely smiles let alone 'lets loose', and the one time he decided to indulge in a few drinks and celebrate against the Sky People, you both end up outside of HQ toward the edge of the forest, fucking like rabbits in a frenzied heat which now led to this. 

Not like you regret that night, despite everything. You've had one-night stands in the past (how else are humans going to pass the time on a moon that wants to kill them?) but that night with So'lek was easily the best. It wasn't hateful, but it was definitely rough and desperate. It felt like you were both so into it, not sure where one of you starts and the other ends, unable to keep each other's hands off of your bodies. You felt as though he was mapping every inch of your skin, but no matter how much he tasted you, it was never enough for him.

But by morning, he was gone, and you felt stupid to believe a drunken night would change anything. He was So'lek after all, the lone Na'vi, driven to avenge his butchered clan. He hated humans and had very little empathy for avatars, always saying the word 'dreamwalker' with distaste.  He treats you much like how he treats Alma or Priya. With indifference. You should've known a few drinks and a good fucking wouldn't change a lifetime of hate. Neither would a baby.

The word alone made you hold your breath, out of fear or excitement, you weren't sure. You never thought you'd be a mother, especially on Pandora where the odds weren't exactly in your favor. Up until this point, you had only referred to your situation as a 'pregnancy' and hadn't even used 'child' or 'baby'. Until now, as you finally came to terms with the uncertainty that lay ahead in your future. 

One thing was certain: You couldn't tell So'lek.

If he didn't care for humans or humans that look like Na'vi, you knew it wasn't possible for him to care for a hybrid of the two. You've experienced firsthand what the Na'vi think of you and Alma's avatars... and you've seen firsthand what the Na'vi think of children from said avatars. You didn't want that for your child, even if it meant shielding them from their father.

You knew you needed to plan, but first, you needed some trusted help. Priya gave you your blood work results, but thankfully, she didn't read them because if she did, all of Resistance HQ would know about your pregnancy before you could even wrap your head around the idea of it.

Alma would likely lecture you on contraceptives like you were a child despite the fact you were closer to her age compared to the Sarentu students she taught, so for the time being, you would keep her in the dark. The Sarentu, however...

You have grown fond of the young group of Na'vi since they first joined the Resistance. Alma used to tell you stories about the children she taught back at TAP. Fun stories, embarrassing stories, all of which made you smile or laugh. When you first met the Sarentu after they were rescued, you immediately welcomed them with open arms into the Resistance, and they have grown quite attached to you... well, other than Nor. He looked at you the same way he looked at Alma, the same way So'lek looked at all dreamwalkers.

You decide to confide in Ri'nela and Teylan about your pregnancy and make them promise not to tell Nor, knowing he'd likely tell So'lek. Both were excited for you and willing to help in any way they could. The three of you come up with a system to prepare for the day your avatar would begin to show your pregnancy, but until then, you must plan for your new arrival.

~~~~~~~~~

The regret and disgust he felt after fucking a dreamwalker has kept him away from HQ more than usual-- and that's saying something.

It wasn't as though So'lek was disgusted by you, but mostly himself. He thought he was better than that, stronger than primal desires that come out during a moment of weakness and the influence of alcohol. He should've known that his life of solitude would eventually get the better of him because not even his hand would be able to quench that need to have a warm, wet pussy wrapped tightly around his cock. He saw a chance to have that again, if only for a moment, and the alcohol helped him gladly take that leap. Your own hand was enough to rile him up when you held onto the back of his neck for dear life as he had you pinned against a tree. Maybe you hadn't realized it in the moment of primal desire, but your fingers were absently tracing the base of his kuru and the memory of your touch was enough to make him light-headed.

It wasn't healthy for him to be living out in the wild alone if this is how he reacts to one simple touch, so desperate for that connection with anyone... including a dreamwalker. He was disgusted, but again, mostly with himself, feeling as though he took advantage of you and the moment, ready to do anything to have your tight pussy hugging him and keeping him warm and needy.

He always considered intimacy to be an activity only meant for two individuals who were either mates or people who had a deep connection with one another. He didn't have either of those things with you. At least... that's what he kept telling himself after that fateful night, the night he slipped away once your exhaustion took over and you couldn't keep your eyes open a second longer. He had been internally punishing himself every day since then.

You come from a species that murdered his entire clan. That thought alone made him feel guilt and shame in his gut for ravaging you, his usual need for revenge pushed back in his mind and replaced with the need to fuck your pretty pussy. The fact that you managed to distract him from his lifelong goal if only for a moment, angered him. The fact that a sky demon had this effect on him had him reeling down his tunnel of shame.

Then again, he knew you were not solely responsible for the death of his clan. He had to continuously remind himself that you were his ally and not someone like Mercer or Harding. You had an avatar like Alma, but in So'lek's opinion, you have done far more good than Cortez has. You actively prove yourself, time and time again. When the Sarentu returned, you immediately went out of your way to make sure the younger Na'vi felt comfortable and welcomed in their new home. So'lek had watched you during these moments, wondering if you had originally been there when his clan was butchered, would you have treated him the same? You're always kind and patient, especially against his scrutiny. He doesn't know why you thought he deserved your kindness, but maybe that's why he thought he could be vulnerable toward you.

If he deserved it back then, he definitely didn't deserve it now after immediately leaving you high and dry that fateful night like you were just a cum dump. You weren't, and even he thought you deserved better, dreamwalker or not. Despite how he felt what you did or didn't deserve, So'lek had been avoiding you like the plague. Little did he know you were doing the same.

Even when he did see you, which was rarer than ever, it was only when Alma forced the pair of you in close proximity, and you were always in your human body, never in your avatar. If your eyes ever met, you always ducked your head when he glanced at you or hid your face behind a breathing mask. So'lek could only imagine how you felt after that one night. He imagined you were as equally ashamed, judging by the fact you rarely looked him in the eyes, and also because you don't ever use your avatar body around him. He wasn't blind. He knows that was likely the reason. So'lek imagined that you probably didn't feel comfortable being a dreamwalker around him anymore, even more so than before when he used to verbally mention his distaste for them.

~~~~~~~~~

You're definitely showing.

Teylan had given you his old TAP shirt to wear (the logo covered with a badge Priya made for him stitched over it) but even then you felt like everyone was staring at your middle. Maybe it was just your paranoid pregnancy brain, but you were pretty sure you weren't imagining the way Alex's eyes drifted down to your stomach when you stood your avatar to full height before he quickly glanced away. After that, you wore your bulletproof vest over your middle.

It also didn't help that you've started to 'nest', which essentially just came down to you and Ri'nela practicing your newly earned weaving techniques to try and fashion a bunch of Na'vi child-sized items. Whatever she learns from the Aranahe, she brings back for the both of you to practice and learn the new skill, and while at first, it seemed hopeless, eventually you fashioned a cute, tiny loincloth that actually made you tear up at the sight of it in your large hands.

You know you'll eventually have to tell the rest of the Resistance, but you, Ri'nela, and Teylan have made plans that last at least until the end of your second trimester. Maybe if you slowly introduce everyone to the idea of a Na'vi baby being around, maybe the blow wouldn't be so hard when you eventually share the news. Or, and this may be the paranoia part of your brain, maybe you could just move your avatar far away from here, either to live alone or live with whatever tribe would accept you until the baby is born. 

Either way, you're running out of time. 

~~~~~~~~~

"Are you with child?"

Ri'nela looks up from her datapad, her confusion met with a stern, possibly overprotective So'lek as he stares the young Sarentu female down with a questioning gaze. Ri'nela's blood froze when she suspected why exactly he might be asking her, but she played it off to the best of her ability, "What? No?"

"Then what is this?" Her heart plummets when So'lek raises a small item in his hand. It was tinier than even his palm, a little beaded top meant for a Na'vi baby. So'lek's tone remained accusatory, interrogating one of the young adult Sarentu he feels responsible for, "I saw you weaving it earlier."

Her lie rolls easily off her tongue, "It is just practice. I make smaller versions of things that I want for myself. Once I get the technique down right, I'll make a bigger one that will fit me."

So'lek's eyes narrow further with suspicion, "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"There's a scent on this one."

Again, Ri'nela's blood grows cold, but she uses nearly every muscle in her face to keep her expression neutral. Whatever expression she projects, So'lek doesn't read anything off of it as he continues, "It is faint but I recognize it. It is the scent of a pregnant Na'vi."

"It is not mine."

"Then whose..."

Ri'nela's tail is the thing that betrays her, flicking irritably from side to side behind her. It is also the thing that attracts Teylan to her side, the male Sarentu bounding over to Ri'nela and So'lek without care or notice of the tension between them. So'lek's eyes dance between the two younger Na'vi, still suspecting the small item in his hand. If it didn't belong to Ri'nela, then it must belong to another female Na'vi, but barely any come around the Resistance HQ and he highly doubted any of them would leave their future child's clothes behind. However, even if there weren't any female Na'vi around, there were still female dreamwalkers.

Alma was definitely not pregnant. So'lek had just seen her that morning and her scent was still the same as it had always been. As for the other female avatar, So'lek doesn't dare try to think about the last time he saw you-- 

... Ri'nela watches as realization dawns on So'lek's face, a brief moment of horror before it's quickly replaced with stern determination.

"Where is Y/n?"

"She's out." Ri'nela quickly answers.

However, she should've said something more when she noticed Teylan's ears and tail perk up with interest out of the corner of her eye, just as he spoke up, "Yes. She said she was going to the Kinglor Forest to collect samples!"

"Teylan," she hissed quietly, immediately regretting it when Teylan flinched and stared at her with almost comical wide eyes. She sighed and immediately apologized under her breath, her hand soothing his shoulder whilst she hesitantly stared up at So'lek.

His eyes continue to narrow down at her as if he was lecturing a child. He could easily tell that Ri'nela was trying to hide your whereabouts from him, and now he needed to see for himself as to why... though he was starting to piece the puzzle together in his head.

"She should not be traveling alone. I will go find her."

Before Ri'nela could even protest, So'lek whips around and leaves the base.

~~~~~~~~~

If you thought your first trimester was rough, you clearly weren't prepared for your second.

Your belly finally beginning to grow past your shirts and barely hidden in your loosened vests, you have begun to journey out of HQ on your own to not raise suspicion. During these times away, you've indulged yourself in hiding under your clothes less and today was no different, setting your vest and shirt down on a nearby rock while you wad into the shallow water of the river you found, wearing only your avatar-size bra and safari shorts. You bend down into the water to take a few vial-sized samples to bring back to the lab for Alex, but you've lately had to bend your body differently than normal with your rounded stomach now starting to get in the way of your usual activities. You straighten back up with a loud sigh, stretching your back and absently rubbing your belly before taking your hand away again to stopper the vial.

Had you been born and raised as Na'vi, you would've noticed you were being watched immediately, a thought that came to So'lek's mind as he discovered you on the river bank. He remained hidden for the time being, quietly observing as you cheerfully hum to yourself to pass the time during your research. His yellow eyes widen at the sight of you, visibly glowing while your changed scent wafts in his nose, answering all his previous questions. Now the sudden disappearance of your avatar from his presence finally made sense to him, eyes lowering down your body until they landed on your newest, most prominent feature.

You finally notice something wrong with your surroundings, your ears picking up something you didn't initially hear, and a different scent suddenly fills your nose. Looking around you happen to look over in his direction as you gasp out of terror, dropping your vials into the river, hands coming up to hold your heart before you realize who it was and you force your heartbeat to relax. For a moment, you're calm, before you finally remember why you feel so exposed as his eyes zeroed in on your belly, "Oh, shit, So'lek--"

"How long have you known?" He demands outright, stepping out into the open, just along the riverbank. 

You pause, ears folding back against your skull as alarms go off in your head, unable to recall all the lies and excuses you had practically rehearsed in the mirror for weeks on end. You find yourself muttering the truth, "... I found out three weeks after... you know, after you and I--"

"That was MONTHS ago," he unexpectedly snarled, narrowed eyes flicking up to yours, "And when exactly were you going to tell me about this?"

The hostility toward you brings out your defensive side as your eyes squint at him, "I didn't think you'd want to know."

"In what world would I not want to know about something like this? Why would you keep something as serious as this from me?"

"Last I checked, you wanted nothing to do with me," you snarled back, recalling the morning she woke up and he wasn't there, "What else was I supposed to think?"

"You could have at least told me I was going to be a father from the beginning!"

"And how do you think I feel?!" You screeched, clenching your hands into tight fists as you gritted your teeth, "I'll have to give birth in a body I wasn't even born in! I'll have to raise a child that's technically not even the same species as me! And let's not forget that my baby daddy hates the very sight of me!"

He wasn't familiar with the human term 'baby daddy' but by the tone of your voice, it wasn't meant to be a good term. While you made very good points, his head was now less angry and more reeling over the fact that you were pregnant with his child. The shock was finally settling in and while a part of him says he should be... pleased, the other part of him felt estranged by the whole ordeal. Growing up, he had always been taught the joy of becoming a parent, but after losing the majority of his clan, he felt as though that future was already dead and gone. But now you stood before him, and so much conflict was welling up inside him. You weren't his mate, and one could argue you weren't even the same species as him, but one night of mistakes led to a child that So'lek wasn't sure would be welcomed in this world of Eywa.

While he sounded less angry when he next spoke, it didn't hide the disappointment in his voice, "That does not explain why you chose to keep a child of mine a secret from me--"

"--Because I knew this is exactly how you'd react!" You snap, "What would you do in my situation?"

He remained quiet because he wasn't foolish enough to try and lie to you. He honestly wouldn't know what to do if he was in your place. His silence was all the answer you needed, as you slowly started to relax your posture and give into an emotion that looked a lot like defeat, 

"Listen, I get that you don't like me. I'm fairly certain you actually hate me, which is why I kept this from you. I didn't want my child growing up thinking their father hated their mother."

The words make his ears twitch but he otherwise didn't say a word, allowing you to continue. Your voice comes out distasteful, a tone that comes out every time you speak of your home planet, "Believe it or not, that's very common back home and I didn't want that for any child of mine... human OR Na'vi.

"And... and I know you've never met Jake Sully or his family, but I have. Before he left the Resistance to me and Alma, I got to know his kids. One of his sons and his adopted daughter were born with avatar traits. Brows, fingers... Lo'ak and Kiri were on my mind when I found out I was pregnant. I've seen firsthand how they're treated by other Na'vi. I've seen how Lo'ak treats himself, and... and I didn't want that for my child, especially if they end up looking like me. I didn't want them to grow up believing they were some sort of monster or demon."

Your look of defeat turns sour while pointedly glaring over at So'lek, "And YOUR presence wouldn't help that."

The silence is deafening, or more specifically his silence. You notice how the river and the forest around you felt alive with noise and beauty, yet So'lek stood among all of it like a ghost, silent as the grave. The only indication that he was still alive was the tail behind him, twitching to indicate he was contemplating.

Confliction was still at war in his head. This was still a child you were talking about. His child, and yet you felt the need to hide it from him. And yet, instead of anger, he felt guilt and shame because he knew you had every right to do so. It was his fault. He had made his distaste for your kind known, and many times it was even said to your face. You had every reason to believe he would care very little for a child made by both him and you. So'lek was ashamed of himself because you felt the need to shield your child from him, a child that wasn't even born yet. You made valid points that not even he could argue with. This child may be born with Na'vi in its veins, but vrrtep blood would also be added to the mix. So'lek would be lying to himself and his child if he went around hating all humans and avatars and yet loved a baby made by both him and a dreamwalker regardless. 

The fact that he still wanted to love the child regardless came to mind, and he honestly surprised himself with this revelation. Perhaps that was why he was so angry before. Because you were hiding a child he could love. Despite everything, this was still So'lek's child and a deep and secret part of himself was glad that out of everyone he had ever known, you were the child's mother. If Eywa had to pick anyone to carry his child, So'lek was relieved she picked you because despite you're differences, he trusts you more than any human alive.

It was selfish of him to think after everything he's said and done, but a deep part of him wanted this child to be born looking like you, or, technically your avatar. He would be lying if he said he wasn't curious, and he looks at your eyebrows and extra fingers now with curiosity, not hatred. Because that's what it really comes down to. You think that So'lek would hate a child who has human traits, but that is far from the case. So'lek didn't care about what the Sky People and dreamwalkers looked like. He never has and never will.

He doesn't judge what people look like on the outside, but he judges them for whatever is held within. How could he hate an innocent child who would clearly grow up only knowing the best parts of both their father and mother? You were clearly a kindhearted tawtute. There is nothing but good inside you, and that was the only thing So'lek had cared about in others. It was easy for him to hate all Sky People because up until the Resistance, he thought all Sky People were terrible and cruel, the sole reason his clan was gone.

And now... his clan could be restored again. Probably not to the state it was before, but it was a hopeful and bright future for So'lek and his child. He thought he would die alone and with everything his clan had taught him, but now... he could pass on that knowledge and teach his child everything he knows. However, one quick look at your expression and he could tell that you would need a whole lot of convincing. 

"You are right."

Your brows furrow with confusion, "Say that again?"

"Had you told me sooner, I likely would not have reacted well."

Your tone drops into sarcasm, "Oh, and this was you reacting well?"

"Worse," he corrected himself with a small roll of his eyes, "I would have reacted worse than I did now."

"Right."

He sighs heavily, "I do not think I can pretend and be comfortable about... everything that has happened between us, but I want to try."

"To try what?"

"To try whatever it is you want to do," the small look of confusion on your face only makes me further elaborate, "You have a choice, 'eylanay. And whatever choice you make, whether I agree with it or not... I will try and respect it."

You're still trying to wrap your head around the fact that So'lek has yet to pull you into a full-blown screaming match, so your reactions were admittedly slow, "What choice are you talking about exactly?"

"Whether or not you will allow me to be a part of the child's life."

He watches your eyes widen in shock, "You... want to be?"

"Yes, I do," the Na'vi male nods firmly and confidently, "I understand why you would be hesitant, but I promise that if you give me the chance, I will be a part of this child's life every step of the way. You see... to me, it does not matter what flows through one's veins. I have never, not once, judged your appearance because that is not what matters to me."

You pause and think back to all the time you've known So'lek, and he was right. He never talked badly about what humans looked like. He never even outright talks about you or Alma's appearance as avatars. The only thing he outright disapproved of was you trying to pretend to be something you're clearly not.

When you don't argue with his statement, So'lek continues, "Any child born from us will never be judged for their appearance or who they were born from, I swear it. The only thing that matters is their heart and soul, and I know, with you as their mother, this child will have a good and kind heart and soul, and will never know the deep hatred and greed of the people you were born to."

His words honestly drove you to stunned silence, unsure how to respond. You were speechless, opening and closing your mouth to form a reply, but you were too surprised to speak. You had so many questions, other things that the two of you would have to worry about down the road, like what does this mean for the two of you and if you were going to need some form of co-parenting dynamic. You decide not to bring this up right away, as you've been thrown for a loop once already today.

Slowly, you finally just decide to nod and see how this goes, awkwardly answering, "Okay."

His gaze was cautious, but even from where you stood, you could've sworn you saw a flash of hope in his eyes, his tail betraying him as it swayed behind him, "Is it?"

"Yeah," you start to grow nervous under his careful eye, looking around so you can find something to do, "Yeah, um... Let-- Let me just retrieve my vials and then we can head back to HQ to talk more."

You go to bend down to find the stoppered vials you had dropped into the shallow water of the river, but you don't get very far before So'lek steps into the river as well and crouches down before you, his hands already underneath the surface and leisurely searching for the vials in question. You stand back up to your full height and just watch, curious despite the warmth you feel growing up your neck.

The water makes the sound of a surfaced splash as So'lek's hands rise out of the water with the vials in hand, standing up to his own full height, which easily towered over your avatar's. You hadn't realized how close he had been until he was handing the vials to you, and immediately you look away and clear your throat.

"Thank you. So... how did you find out?"

He briefly frowned before comprehending what you were trying to ask and reached into his pouch. He lifts his hand and you recognize the beaded top Ri'nela promised to finish for you when you no longer had the time to do so.

He looks at the item with you, "I thought it was Ri'nela's."

A surprised snort of disbelief escapes you, the nerves now bleeding into amusement, "Ri'nela?? Seriously?"

His ears twitch irritably, but it doesn't intimidate you. Not this time. "Yes."

You smirk, "Believe me, big guy. If Ri'nela was pregnant, I would've killed the one responsible ages ago."

Unexpectedly, your chest floods with warmth as So'lek makes a deep, reverberating sound and it takes you a moment to realize it was a laugh. The laugh was short yet sweet, and when So'lek recovered, there was still a small but clearly visible smile. 

He takes a brief moment to think before he holds out a hand, making it clear about his intent, "May I?" 

You look at his hand then look back up at him, nodding before moving your arms to your sides so that So'lek has full reign of your belly, but he doesn't take advantage of it. If anything, he almost looks hesitant, internally stunned that you gave him permission. He slowly places his hand over your pregnant stomach, and you are quickly reminded of how large his hands are. 

Neither of you say a word, just standing in the shallow part of the river, the water up to your ankles as you both stare down at So'lek's hand, placed gently over your round belly. You know So'lek must have felt something because his tail curled to alertness behind him, and his mouth slowly formed a brief, fond smile, which undoubtedly made your heart squeeze.

As you watch him technically interact with your unborn child for the first time, you start to feel incredibly grateful for how your situation turned out. You haven't known Eywa and her beauty for very long, so you're not sure if she deliberately picked So'lek for this to happen with you, but all the same, you were glad it was him out of everyone you know. You didn't know the sentiment was mutual.

"So'lek?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you."

~~~~~~~~~

MONTHS LATER... 

One look at So'lek and you knew that twins weren't common among Na'vi. He had to have someone explain to him the amount of babies human females can bear, and his expression of horror honestly made you laugh more than anything, despite how exhausted and overwhelmed you were. While you didn't give birth in your human body, your avatar still contained remnants of human DNA, and back on Earth, your family had a history of twins, so in conclusion, you shouldn't have been all that surprised. Still, you didn't think that would transfer over to your false Na'vi body.

You didn't blame So'lek for being horrified. You were just as equally scared. You thought the two of you might be able to handle keeping one child safe during a war, but two? As you and So'lek looked at each other, you didn't have to say a word to know what the other was thinking. After all, it came with the territory of being mates. You tend to always know what is going on in each other's head. 

You never thought So'lek might actually care for you more than just as the mother to his child, but over the last months throughout your pregnancy, he made it perfectly clear that he wouldn't have shown interest the night you two ended up fucking against a tree if he didn't already care for you. His feelings were complicated, yes, but due to a lifetime of death and revenge, no one could really blame him. He was honest with you one night when you finally asked him where you two stood in all of this and what it would mean to raise a child together.

He was honest when he said he wasn't going to mention it because he thought you regretted it. And in a way, he did regret your one-night stand, but for a completely different reason. He admitted that he thought you deserved someone better, someone, who didn't initially spit in your face when you both met because he thought you might be just like all the other Sky People. Pregnancy aside, he confessed how much he had grown to care for you, but he knew it all initially started way before you two had your night of fun during that one fateful celebration. He knew he cared for you even before that, he just couldn't admit it to himself before he got drunk and had his way with you.

Once boundaries were made and feelings were shared, So'lek brought you to a special place, the Tree of Souls. The two of you, no longer influenced by alcohol or conflicted emotions, bonded and mated before Eywa. You blamed your pregnancy for how emotionally intimate it felt for you, all your hormones going through the roof, and it only spurred So'lek on since he could feel it all through tsaheylu. Unlike your one-night stand, this was slow and passionate, and it likely would've gone all night long...

That is, until your water broke. But hey, things happen.

Despite all the confusion, doubt, and fear fighting in your mind about the war and how you'll have to protect your children, you took one look down at your twin sons and all those thoughts went away. You never thought you'd be a boy mom, let alone a boy mom to twins.

Once So'lek's initial shock wears off, he's immediately tending to you and your sons. Sons. He still can't wrap his head around it. This was far more than he thought he deserved, beyond his wildest dreams.

Weeks go by, and now all of Resistance HQ has grown accustomed to your new family dynamic, and many of your friends were over the moon about your boys. To play it safe, you didn't break your link with your avatar until the body fully recovered from labor and the babies no longer needed to be nursed, but you kept yourself entertained with your new family, unable to stop smiling at the sight of your husband and sons. 

To give your new family some privacy, Ri'nela and Teylan took a private room in HQ and formed what they called a "nest corner", which came down to essentially just a bunch of pillows, blankets, soft, warm little lights hanging from the ceiling, and even two hammocks. The two snonivi in question apparently were woven by Nor, but you're not entirely sure, a little put off by the fact that he actually wanted to help.

As So'lek stood up from your little nest of blankets and pillows, one of your sons safely sleeping in his strong arms, you had the sudden urge to tug on your mate's tail.

So'lek whips around and points at you with a finger and a knowing glare, "Behave."

"Or what?" You grinned, your tail flirtaciously swaying behind you and you watched the way So'lek clearly noticed it.

He huffs lightly, shaking his head at your antics, playfully warning you, "Easy, yawntutsyìp."

You bite your lip to refrain from smiling uncontrollably, briefly looking down to check on your other son, also sleeping but in your lap as you sit cross-legged before you speak once more, a playful tone still etched in your voice, "You know... Anufi says that I have about one more week before she thinks I'm fully recovered from labor. So... I'm just saying... pretty sure I'll be going back to my usual mischief again soon."

He shakes his head once more, but he can't exactly hide the way his tail perks up with interest, "Your mischief is what got us two sons in the first place."

"Excuse me?" You scoffed, faking how appalled you felt while placing a hand over your heart as you glared up at him, "You came onto me, big guy!"

"Wrong. If I recall, I came inside you."

Your jaw drops, the room filled with silence other than the tiny, cute noises your sons made as they dreamed. You stared up at So'lek in shock, trying to replay his words in your head that left you baffled and speechless, rapidly blinking your eyes like it would somehow wake you from this dream. Did he actually just say that?

His grin is light and playful, making him look years younger, almost an entirely different man, "No one will ever believe you."

~~~~~~~~~

A/n: Swoon. That's all I gotta say.

MASTERLIST

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[kiame-sama]

Random Headcannons for the TWST Monster AU that I have drawn so far.

Warnings; Ortho and Grim are platonic, yandere, multiple yanderes, yandere behavior, obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, virginity mention, Rook has a thing with the Human's feet, Idia is about 9ft (274.32cm) in my AU, antler rack point system/terminology, Lilia is 700+ years old and has seen some shit,

- Riddle has a near instinctual drive to be near the Human he has come to adore because Unicorns and Humans were among the first to befriend one another. Unicorns are driven to be around Humans as the emotional control most Humans have soothe the Unicorns. The Human does not need to be a virgin for the Unicorn to feel bonded with them, but the idea of 'purity' has been upheld by Unicorns for a long period of time. Unicorns can mostly sense a Human's virginity through their heightened magical senses, typically compelling the Unicorn to feel an emotional bond with the Human and a desire to protect that purity their Human has.

- Riddle admires the Queen of Hearts who was a Unicorn like himself. He always loved stories of the Queen's King of Hearts- a meek Human man- who convinced the Queen to show fairness and give trial to those who were accused of breaking laws. From the time he was a foal, Riddle believed that if he ever met a Human, he would make them his King of Hearts and have an unbreakable bond with them the same way the Queen of Hearts did with her King of Hearts. The second Riddle learned there was a Human in Night Raven College, he was already planning how he was going to propose to them and make them his cherished King of Hearts.

- Riddle studied the history of Humans when he was a young child, almost as closely as he studied the rules the Queen of Hearts made. He grew up with a certain prejudice towards Gnolls, Nemean Lions, and other species that ate Humans previously. Most Unicorns share this prejudice as the extinction of Humans led to the realization that a Human's emotional wellbeing actually empowered the Unicorns they lived with, meaning their extinction weakened Unicorns as a whole. Unicorns that had been in the presence of Humans before their extinction actually suffered withdrawal symptoms when the Humans were no more, leading to the belief that Humans were almost addictive in different ways to different species.

- Riddle can barely swim and when he does swim, he is swimming for his life. Some Unicorns are excellent swimmers, but Riddle is not one of those Unicorns. When Riddle was younger he actually fell into a lake and almost drowned. A rather young Trey was the one who pulled Riddle from the water, taking the drenched Unicorn back home for sweets and comfort where he met the Bakeneko Che'nya and the three became friends. Riddle is twice Trey's age, but Unicorns age twice as slowly as most other species, meaning Trey is actually more mature than Riddle despite Riddle being older.

- Leona is a Nemean Lion and Nemean Lions are obligate carnivores, meaning their diet is about 70% meat. He usually eats his meat raw as he is too lazy to cook it, but he has picked up on the scents Ruggie has brought back to Savanaclaw and has wondered about joining the Gnoll for his daily visits to Ramshackle for food. He is aware others don't trust him alone around the Human, but Ruggie is also a species that traditionally ate Humans and seems to get along just fine with the Human.

- Leona calls the Human by the nickname 'Mousey' because he sees the Human to be as fragile as a mouse when compared to his own strength and power. It really isn't worth killing a Mouse for food when you're a Lion due to how small they are and Leona views the Human as the same. It isn't worth eating the Human for the absolute backlash and poor treatment he would receive as a result when he has already received poor treatment from many other students due to the still damaging rumors around Sunset Savana.

- Leona actually told his brother Falena about the Human that first day they fell into the sorting ceremony. Falena was dubious about the authenticity of Leona's claim until Cater's picture with the Human began popping up everywhere as all of Twisted Wonderland learned there was a Human at Night Raven College. The elder brother urges Leona to be careful but to try and befriend the Human as it could only mean good things for their Kingdom and for the view of the Kingdom. He has asked several times for Leona to intentionally take a photo of the Human with the Nemean Lion to create the foundation for a more positive look for Sunset Savana.

- Leona warned everyone in Savanaclaw that first day to not touch or hassle the Human regardless of what the Human may do. He did this through direct treats and displays of power over his dorm to ensure not a thing happens to that annoyingly fragile Mousey. He also threatened that should anyone from the dorm harm the Human, he will use King's Roar on them and erase them from existence for their crimes. Despite how moody he behaves towards the Human, he actually longs to be by their side and wonders how it would feel to be pet by the Human after a long day. He will never ask, but one day he may demand affection from that Human.

- Ruggie tends to be loyal to those that feed him, only sharing his own food with those he deeply cares about. Leona was the primary source of food for the Gnoll and so, Ruggie became a lackey for the Lion simply because the Lion fed him, but it was still not as much or as often as the Gnoll actually needed. Once Ruggie began getting meals from the Human, he actually has filled out a bit more and isn't quite as skinny anymore, having a more balanced diet and hearty meals. Ruggie would even turn on Leona for the Human should they ask him to. He won't be excited about it, and he will be terrified, but he will still do it only for them.

- Gnolls do have a gene for growing winter coats, much like their Hyena counterparts, but he is not a fan of the cold despite that fact. It takes more calories to stay warm in winter- even with thick winter fur- so Ruggie has a certain dislike for the cold. His fur becomes extremely dense and makes him look much fluffier than usual, making it ideal to bury one's face in and take comfort in the thick pelt. Ruggie wonders if he can carry the Human around in winter because they are usually so warm and they may enjoy the thickness of his pelt during the cold seasons as well.

- Ruggie has fallen into the habit of waking early to camp out outside of Ramshackle so he can smell when the Human starts cooking breakfast. Alternatively, he has also started camping out near Ramshackle in the evenings for the same reason. So long as he can keep getting those wonderful meals, he will be able to die a happy Gnoll. Should the Human ever need a taste tester, he will happily volunteer his services and will always be ready to eat more of whatever it is the Human makes. Food is food and food is good.

- Ruggie loves physical affection and yearns to be in a group for both numbers and camaraderie, so anytime he is around the Human, he feels that sense of belonging. He will likely be the first to beg the Human to pet him, melting from the feel of their soft hands in his fur. His tail will wag and if the petting is sublime enough, he may even begin to cackle and whine from the petting. Once pet, he will become hooked to the gentle affection and will become rather needy for continued petting in the future. He is happy to try and pet the Human in return, but he does need to be careful of his claws and it confuses him that the Human is not as enthusiastic about being petted instead.

- Vil is a very proud Harpy and is genetically built to be proud. As a Peacock Harpy, Vil grows long train feathers that he tends to carefully. Stepping on, touching, or otherwise brushing against his feathers will make the Harpy angry with the offending party excepting very few- primarily Rook and the Human- and he will become violent towards those who dare sully his feathers. Tail feathers are saved and used by the Harpy as tokens of affection or approval, crown feathers are saved in a jar and are only going to be gifted to someone who truly means the world to Vil, flight feathers are saved, neck and body feathers are either thrown away or used as stuffing for pillows.

- Vil has made many adjustments to his dorm uniform to accommodate his tail and wings, going as far as to leave large slits in the back of his uniform that allow him to insert his wings into the openings. There are several buttons that run the length of these openings so Vil can button up his uniform around his wings instead of leaving them open and his back exposed. His pants are made with a large opening in the back that can be buttoned at the top to close his pants around his tail without impacting his feathers. He has made similar adjustments to his ceremonial robes and to his regular uniform.

- The purple in his hair and the blue and white coloration on his face are not artificially added. The skin around his eyes has that color as a natural tint, but Vil will occasionally cover it up with foundation to put on different eye-makeup. He usually doesn't cover up his eye-marks as he sees them as his natural beauty shining forth but he will occasionally reshape them with makeup or add a glitter over them to emphasize his features. The purple is a unique color even for peacock Harpies which can actually be attributed to Vil's mother- a Purple Chested Hummingbird Harpy- and his extra color makes many other male Harpies jealous as purple is a rarer color.

- Vil's temper doesn't often show through, especially because he is an actor and has learned to mute his natural reactions, but there are several signs to tell how Vil feels at any given time. When his neck feathers ruffle he is usually in a bad mood or something has irritated him. When his seven crest feathers raise up- as they are typically laying flat into his hair- he is feeling proud or posturing to tease other males. When his crest is up and his tail feathers are up, his wings will spread out and display, this is only in the extremely rare case Vil is showing off for a prospective mate. To date he has only displayed his full feathers twice, and once was on accident, the other was for his Human when he first officially met them.

- Rook has always had a certain obsession with those who are different- either more beastly than others or more tame- and his Human checks every box Rook has for the most interesting being he has met. From the Human's near useless natural weapons to the Human's surprising fragility, Rook is hooked on knowing everything he possibly can about the Human. He has a particular interest in the Human's feet as most other species in Twisted Wonderland do not have feet the way the Human does. Even Vil and beautiful Neige have bird feet and talons instead of these odd feet the Human has. He will try to keep his unusual interest concealed for the most part, but can't resist holding the Human's feet and even petting them as he paints their nails.

- Rook has an instinctual aversion to garlic and does what he can to avoid foods with garlic in them as well as mint and lavender. The scents are very strong and almost overpowering to Rook, so it bothers him deeply when there are even cloves of garlic around him. This being said, if the Human made food with garlic in it, Rook would still eat it and fight every single instinct he has to spit it out. Even if it hurts his stomach and makes him ill, he will eat the food because HIS Human made it for him and he needs them to know how much he adores them and values their skills. Vil is almost disgusted with how down bad Rook is- knowing how much the Drider despises garlic- but acquiesces to the fact that he also has a similar drive to appease and please the Human.

- Rook can spin three types of webbing that all have different uses in his everyday life. First is his sticky webbing which is used to make most webs and to ensnare prey despite him rarely using this webbing for hunting. Second is his nesting webbing which is not sticky and has the consistency closer to silk, used mainly in the heart of his webs as bedding or as a way to keep warm in cooler weather. Third is binding webbing often used to tie up prey and mates alike, stronger and sturdier like rope compared to other webbing. Vil is particularly interested in the second type of webbing as it is ideal for making fabrics that are more durable and breathable than silk. Rook demands that at least one of the outfits chosen for the Human by himself, Vil, and Divus is made from his personal silk. He secretly hopes to make Lingerie from his silk for his Human and hopes they will give him a show while they wear it.

- Rook prefers wild caught game as opposed to meats from livestock and will often hunt his own meals down in the forests around Night Raven College. He often offers these meats to Vil as well despite the fact the Harpy dislikes how gristly wild caught game tends to be. Rook hopes that one day he can catch prey for the Human to cook up, wishing to be a kind of provider for the Human he adores so much.

- Grim has an extremely acidic stomach and can digest most items, even if they are not traditionally considered food items. He can eat rocks and tree-bark but prefers the food his Human makes for him. He has no allergies that he is aware of and has a very large appetite for one so small.

- Every scar was made by a different animal and every scar was a time Grim almost lost his life to one of the other beasts of the forest. Due to his injury over his right eye, he can't see very well out of it and it occasionally causes him pain.

- Grim is considered to be an anomaly as he is more sentient than the other wild beasts of the forests but his magic is more like a wild animal. As a result, Grim cannot use a magestone due to the wild nature of his magic, but he is also more resistant to overblotting as well because his magic is fueled by the magic in the land itself.

- For as long as Grim can remember, he has lived in the forests around Night Raven College grounds. As a result, he has a certain jealousy towards the students he would see wandering around the school grounds. He never understood why they were so special and could go to the school but he couldn't.

- Ortho is 40% mechanical as a result of being attacked by a Feral Overblotted Shinigami when he was young. His injuries almost killed him and resulted in him having to live in a mechanical iron-lung to keep him alive while Idia began crafting his augmented limbs. It is because of these injuries that Ortho has become such a powerful mage as he needs to use magic to fuel the limbs and make them work. This constant use of magic has actually increased his resistance to Overblotting due to the constant magical output and presence of blot within Ortho's body, giving him a resistance to the magical waste created.

- Ortho is the baby of the Shroud family and is often given preferential treatment as a result of this. He doesn't like it. Due to his injuries he has always had a longing for independence that he can't really have given the fact Idia is the one who makes and updates his cybernetics. Ortho is smart for his age, even for a Shinigami, and as such is able to attend Night Raven College with Idia despite the typical school age for Shinigami being 25. Ortho may be 13 and seen as a young child by his family, but he is actually more magically adept than almost every other family member except for Hades.

- The device on Ortho's hip is an O2 and CO2 monitor that adjusts automatically based on how much oxygen is in his blood. He can take the mask off, but he cannot be without it for long as it does help him immensely with breathing and removing CO2 from his body. His lung is an artificial creation made by Idia and almost functions as well as a real lung, but still falls just a bit short of the real deal. Most of Ortho's prosthetic limbs are works in progress as they need to be altered and adjusted as Ortho grows, given Shinigami keep growing throughout their lives.

- Ortho's wings are modeled after Harpies more than the traditional Shinigami wings as Shinigami have specialized feathers that technically should not be able to be used for flight. Similar designs would leave Ortho flightless, so Idia made Harpy-like wings instead so Ortho can still use them to fly. He is sad that his wings are not like the wings of his family, but he understands that Shinigami feathers are quite different from typical bird feathers.

- Idia does not wear makeup. His lip color, eyeshadow and even the gem-like structures on his face are all natural formed. The gem-like structures are actually a result of acne scars because Idia often picked at his face when he was younger, leading the skin to grow back stronger and almost like gemstones. They are rock-hard and shine like gems despite being natural formations of skin and change color with his hair due to having magical qualities much like the flaming hair all Shrouds possess.

- Idia's hair changes color depending on his emotions and it usually takes a strong emotion to make the flames that are his hair change color. The typical fire-red is when Idia becomes heated or legitimately angry usually due to a videogame he is playing or someone is pushing him too much. He learns that his hair will burn a magenta-pink when he is gazing affectionately at his Human while they game, immersed in the story and general gameplay. When his hair burns this magenta color, heart shapes can be seen within the flames. His hair will burn white if he becomes too anxious, the lighter his hair becomes the more anxious he is.

- Idia is aware he is different in size compared to the other students and often skips classes because of it. He doesn't want to be looked at or perceived for too long, hence why he actually waited for Ortho to grow up a bit so he could attend Night Raven College with his younger brother as an anxiety buffer. Due to Idia's anxiety at being looked at, he often will curl up his body and tuck in his limbs while sitting to appear smaller than he is. His hope is the smaller he appears, the less likely others will be to stare at him when they see him.

- Idia's hair is flames and as flames they put out a natural light. This light is less intense than most flames, but it does mean that Idia and others of the Shroud family struggle to sleep. Shinigami don't need as much sleep as most other species and can go days without sleeping, but when they do need sleep, they need eye-cover to not be woken up by their flames. Their hair is water resistant and can continue to burn underwater as it is magical in nature and behaves differently from regular fire due to being Shinigami fire.

- Silver has a three point rack as he has three points to his antlers, so not the biggest rack and not the smallest either when compared to other Cervitaur. He does shed his antlers and even has velvet that he needs to rub off of his antlers whenever a new pair grow in. Lilia is obsessed with collecting the shed velvet and antlers as they are a way for the old Bat Fae to remember his son by. Silver is not Fae and will likely die before Lilia does as a result, so he is indulgent of allowing Lilia to collect the antlers and shed velvet. Silver often leaves home to shed his velvet or antlers because Lilia can be a bit too excited to collect the shed and will even try to take the velvet directly from Silver's antlers before he can get it off himself.

- Silver wields a short-sword and has been trained in the use of a variety of weapons by Lilia to protect Malleus. He prefers the shortsword as it has greater control than a greatsword but has better reach than a dagger. He can often be seen training with Sebek and Lilia in the use of this weapon and will train until he is proficient enough to dispatch enemies efficiently. Should Silver lose his sword, he can also use his antlers to skewer his foes and his legs to kick them as needed.

- Silver is a herd species, and Malleus' Hoard is his herd. He will feel nervous or uneasy if he is alway from his herd for too long and can often struggle to make himself comfortable without at least one member of his herd nearby. Despite this, he can still fall asleep in random places despite how alone he may be even with his preference to be around his herd. He is protective of his herd and will be violent towards those who threaten any member of his herd regardless of if that member is stronger or weaker than he is.

- Silver grew up eating Lilia's cooking and believed all cooking made food worse, not better as a result. Once he tasted his Human's cooking, he actually realized that it was just a problem with Lilia's cooking specifically. He now hopes he gets to taste all kinds of meals and hopes they are all made by the Human he so deeply cares for. He still cringes any time Lilia wants to cook and hopes that perhaps his Human can teach his Father how to actually cook things properly.

- Lilia has had several adopted children over the years, Silver being his most recent adoptee. Lilia has raised only one Human, but he loved his little Human baby and it broke his heart to see that same infant become elderly and pass due to age. He still thinks Humans are precious and hopes that he can cajole this new Human into giving him more babies to raise. If Lilia had his way, he would be raising a herd of half-Human infants, one Dragon halfling, one Cervitaur halfling, one Raiju halfling, and one or more Vampire Bat halflings. He genuinely wants an infant combination from every Hoard member including himself.

- Lilia is sensitive to sound and will often be the first to alert to abnormal sounds due to this sensitive hearing. This also means that whenever Malleus conjures thunder, Lilia will magically deafen himself or dampen his hearing so the thunder does not cause him pain. Lilia takes comfort in hearing the heartbeats of Malleus' Hoard around him while he sleeps and can usually tell whenever a Hoard member is having a nightmare due to their heartbeat. He will often try to groom the one having a nightmare and soothe them back into restful sleep.

- Lilia is second in command of the Hoard and technically has the final say even over Malleus as he is the eldest of the Hoard and has more experience than Malleus by at least 500 years. Usually Lilia encourages Malleus to be the final say in decisions but will put his foot down should it seem like the Dragon is making a poor choice or is acting too closely to his emotions. He is often the one who makes the rational suggestions in a heated moment and has greater control of his emotions due to his age.

- Lilia learned to cook through observation of the Humans he often took shelter with in times of war in Briar Valley. Because he was never officially trained to cook, he is abysmally bad at it but still tries so he can revisit those lovely memories of sitting around a table with a Human family, breaking bread and making friends over a shared meal. Lilia mourned the extinction of Humans more than most and even more than most Fae as he spent so long among the fragile species, protecting them and learning to love the beautiful and kind creatures that were so very different from himself.

[nomatterwhatnomatterwhere]

Feels (Warm) like Sunlight

Max Verstappen x reader

author note's: this story has been floating in the back of my head for longer than I am willing to admitt, so although I'm not really sure about how I feel about this , I hope you enjoy it even a little bit

Kelly's pov :Feels ( Harsh) like Winter Wind

Reader's pov: Feels (Wistful) like Summer Rain

You were really beautiful.

You always had been but that night you were much more beautiful than he remembered.

The dress you were wearing seemed to be sewn on you. For you.

You shone that night, maybe more than the lights that brightened the terrace, maybe more than the stars.

It was one of the things that drove people to notice you, to approach you, not that you were aware of it, anyway.

But it wasn't that that led him to you, it was your laughter: a sound he would have recognized among a thousand, a sound he wouldn't have been able to forget, even if he tried.

It was strange, seeing you again after so long. To see you again in person.

It tasted like remorse mixed with regret.

You and Max had known each other since middle school, when you were kids with social problems who were only comfortable on the Kart track.

Max used to race there, on karts. The kart track was practically his home. But for you it was a different story: you were at the top of the class, the teachers loved you, and not all the students seemed to like you, and Max knew this despite the absences because of racing.

It was clear, any place you were in was illuminated by your presence alone.

Yet that light was not warm. Max knew this well.

He knew it because the light you gave off when you were at the kart track, though smaller and dimmer, warmed everyone around you.

The atmosphere was different when you were there, and Max had seen it with his own eyes: no one on the staff would point out to you that there were places you couldn't be, not when you asked them if everything was okay, if they wanted some water, if they wanted one of those milk candies you always carried around.

Max didn't ask, he didn't know you, he had no reason to ask. He was there for the karts.

The kart track owners had taken you under their wing, considered you a daughter.

They were your foster parents, after all.

You weren't quite sure if the staff knew, that you weren't really their daughter, but given how they turned a blind eye to some things, they probably thought you were really the owners' natural daughter.

( How could you not think so when it was obvious you were their daughter: it was obvious in the way they looked at you, the way they talked about you, it was the light in their eyes that made it obvious.

You were the only one who did not see it )

You had said it yourself once when his father had dropped him off at the kart track.

You were at the reception desk, doing your math homework. You asked him if he wanted to be driven home, since the go-kart track would be closing soon and going home alone could be dangerous, he told you that you didn't have to worry, and then you offered him a milk candy.

You had started doing this every time his father left him there: asking him if he wanted to go home and then offering him a candy after he refused.

When he came back from competitions you would get him the list of school subjects he was supposed to catch up on, sometimes you would give him your notes.

You started studying together, there at the reception table.

His father didn't seem bothered, in fact, since studying with you Max's grades had improved, and as long as he was doing well in school the too many absences didn't matter.

“He has a strange way of showing that he loves you.”

You should have been in class, but he had received permission to leave the classroom because of the situation between his parents, divorce papers and all, you, on the other hand, had simply decided to skip class.

( which was strange on your part, which is why you were only sent home with a reprimand.)

You had been sitting on the steps of the emergency stairs when you had told him and he was eating one of your candies, you gave him the whole package.

You had talked about you, about your biological family that you knew existed but didn't really spend time with, about your foster family that you didn't really feel a part of but were grateful for, about the fact that you hated studying despite the fact that studying came easy to you and that sometimes you thought it was the only thing you were good at, about a book that looked interesting but you hadn't bought because you had three other books looking at you judiciously from your nightstand waiting to be read, about a scarf that you thought would look good on him but you weren't sure he would like the fabric and that maybe you could go shopping together.

You had talked about everything that had crossed your mind in order to give him something else to think about.

You could have listed the characteristics of cockroaches and Max would still have listened to you.

He liked your voice; it was cozy, warm, gentle.

Completely different from what he heard at home.

You were not exactly his safe place, but at that moment you were what he had closest to a pleasant place.

Following his parents' divorce and his moving in with his father, your relationship had strengthened.

You continued to see each other at the kart track, study together, sometimes even went to his races, even when they were not in your immediate vicinity, even when your priorities should have been other

“I understand that the race has your undivided attention and interest, but the literature assignment will not do itself alone.”

Again, his father did not seem bothered by your presence; when you were there Max had better performances-he cared about making a good impression when you were there.

It was nice when you complimented him, meant every word, were genuinely happy for him.

It was less nice when, at the end of the race, he wasn't the first person you complimented because you were talking to someone else

It was the same in school, too. No matter how out of place or socially awkward you felt, your light attracted people, just as it did for moths.

It was obvious, how every time there was someone trying to get your attention, even for a moment, to enjoy your warmth. And you, like the kind person you were, gave your undivided attention to those who demanded it.

It was annoying.

But then, as if sensing it, you would find him in the crowd and run in his direction, smiling, congratulating him on the race.

He didn't even realize the smug look he took on when you preferred him over everyone else; it was his sister who had pointed it out to him.

It was his debut in Formula 1 and his race had ended after 32 laps due to engine failure.

His mood was not the best when he had returned to the pits, but he was not the only one, as you seemed rather annoyed as well

“Some people can't take no gracefully” was what Victoria had said after your umpteenth frustrated sigh and his raised eyebrow ‘ One of the older guys asked her out and she turned him down, but the guy wants a ’valid reason.' Not even the time difference seems to stop him.”

He wasn't surprised: you were pretty, people liked you, and more than once Max had witnessed guys asking you out. A couple of times even girls.

That wasn't new.

What was new was the fact that someone demanded a valid reason for a rejection.

What the fuck did that mean? You were not required to give any 'valid reason,' but knowing you, you had already given the asshole an explanation.

It bothered him. The situation bothered him. It bothered him that he never noticed your situation.

“I'm pretty sure she thought about throwing the phone into the street, hoping one of the cars would run over it-”

“Then I thought it might cause serious trouble” you had inserted yourself into the conversation after spending a good quarter of an hour on the phone "Sorry about the race, you were doing well-ugh" you had just leaned into him when your phone had started ringing again, but you refused the call, as you had for the three that followed because ”I came for you, not to talk on the phone”

“She kept rejecting every other call because ' you deserved all the attention you could get-wipe that look off your face. You're disgusting.”

Max didn't think he was disgusting. There was no reason why he should hide the satisfaction he felt at being the recipient of your attention. Especially after a debut that had not yielded the desired results.

He is not sure what happens next, not sure when your attention becomes part of the background, not sure when your presence is no longer needed for better performance, not sure when your light, your warmth, are no longer the same.

He is not sure when all this is happening, because otherwise he would have noticed how you started to stop showing up at his competitions, to stop sending him good luck or congratulatory messages, to remove yourself from his life.

Because otherwise he would not have felt so bewildered when, after years, he heard your voice again and realized that you had only disappeared from his life, not from his family's.

That you were no longer an integral part of his life, but he was no longer an integral part of yours.

He had been leaning back, sitting with his back to the wall, as he listened to his mother and sister talking to you in the next room, blissfully unaware of his presence.

Your voice had remained the same, always warm and kind, as you mediated between his mother and Victoria about Victoria's current boyfriend, as you updated them on your plans for the day, when you would show up for lunch at their house now that you had finally moved to Monaco, what to expect from the new radio show you would be hosting.

Max had no idea you lived in Monaco, had no idea you worked in radio, had no idea you were a well-known name, even outside the radio world.

He found out the next morning, while listening to the column you had talked about the day before, when your co-host introduced you as the host of the most popular late-night column. Not only of your radio station, but in general. Or when one of the guests very shyly asked if they could be invited on your youtube channel, which you had accepted without any problem.

Before Max knew it, with your gentle voice that smelled like home,and your being able to talk about anything while putting others at ease, you were back to being what he had closest to a pleasant place.

It was your voice that listened when something in the race didn't go as planned and he had to calm his nerves. It was your videos he followed between training and simulator sessions.

You would talk about the pros and cons of doing a job like yours, in the public eye but whose physical and mental stress many ignored, recounting some funny episodes, making some criticism of the system, sometimes inviting guests to take the floor and express their thoughts.

Occasionally you would talk about your life, what you liked and what you disliked, the more or less peculiar hobbies you had, as you got ready to go to work or work-related events.

Those were Max's favorites, which in a rather unhealthy way, felt that he was a part of your life again.

It was during one of those episodes, one of the rare live ones, that he realized he was still part of your life. Indirectly.

“Is there an F1 race or something?” you chuckled slightly ”I guess that means you can hear the noises. Uhm-” you had looked to the side, then started walking ”I mean someone sure is racing but is not an F1 race, sorry. Just karting” you had arrived near a track that Max knew well, having spent most of his life there, apologizing for the noise by raising your tone of voice as you picked up the passing karts ”I'll make sure to pass the compliments tho. Pretty sure they'll be happy to hear someone thought they were F1 drivers”

You had said this with a look that to Max seemed nostalgic, or perhaps he hoped it was; he selfishly wanted to believe that you were thinking back to the time you both had spent there.

Since you 'revealed' you had spent most of your life between races and motors, your audience had not only expanded, but had also begun to ask you for content about that world you knew from the inside.

It was frustrating, walking around the paddock and having the feeling of having heard your voice in the confusion, of catching a wisp of your hair among the people and feeling like he was hallucinating in some way when he couldn't find you.

It was even more frustrating when you had talked on the radio about how much you would love to be a correspondent at a Grand Prix or when on the channel you had seemed so enraptured to be in the paddock, to talk to anyone who could - and would -have a chat with you, which to be understood, was really a lot of people, from drivers to mechanics to fans.

Everybody seemed to be enchanted by you, Max was sure they were, because he was enchantment too and he yearned for the warmth that they had felt. He yearned for it as much as he yearned to win every race.

Never before had he longed as in those moments to go back in time to when he didn't have to hope you would turn in his direction, that you would be in the same place as him, that you would be beside him.

That your attention was on him because you wanted it, not because he asked for it.

When he had heard your voice he really thought he was in the grip of some auditory hallucination, because you had said so yourself, that when you could you preferred not to attend.

“Although it may not seem like it, I don't really like staying in crowded places for too long, I get easily overwhelmed by all of that.”

He had tried not to jump whenever he heard a sound that sounded like your voice, but it was impossible not to when he heard your laughter.

Not when he was so sure he wasn't imagining everything. Not when you were so close-

You were talking to someone Max didn't know, but you both seemed engrossed in whatever you were discussing, at least until your interlocutor had been pulled into another conversation.

You physically relaxed, releasing the tension in your shoulders, as you shifted in search of a slightly quieter place before throwing yourself back into the fray.

You leaned against the parapet, running your gaze through the crowd, watching people from your little bubble.

Unlike in the past, you no longer seemed to sense his presence, because no matter how much Max stared at you, hoping that like in the old days somehow, he could still be the recipient of your attention, just like that, effortlessly, just because you wanted him to.

It didn't matter you hadn't met his gaze, he couldn't take his eyes off you, now that he had a chance to have you back in his life.

You didn't noticed he had approached you with two glasses of champagne, so absorbed in your thoughts.

It took you a millisecond too long to recognize him; it had been obvious when your eyes had widened and your shoulders had stiffened again.You looked like a deer in the headlights.

He had never gotten such a reaction from you. It did not felt good.

You accepted the glass with a slight smile, even though you had not the slightest intention of drinking its contents.

It was strange, he didn't know what to say to start talking to you. He rarely did not know what to do, how to act.

As a pilot he was used to deciding how to act, in the time of a blink of an eye, because in a job like his, hesitating for a second too long could be lethal.

These were decisions he had to make, and he couldn't overthink, because at that moment, in that car, on that circuit, in that corner or on that straight, he has to start and finish first. Even if it meant being unfair.

The media had exaggerated about him, but he still was Mad Max.

Yet at that moment he did not know what was the best thing to do, to say. He had too many things on his mind and none at the same time.

“It's been a while, hasn't it?”

You had always been good at putting others at ease, at making a situation less burdensome, your work showed that, and maybe it was something that was inherently part of you, but the way you had spoken to him was not what Max had hoped for.

It was still your voice, warm and gentle, tasting of home, but it was different from what he remembered, from what you used in videos or on the radio, from the voice he associated with you.

From his pleasant place.

There was an undertone that he didn't recognize ,that he couldn't associate with your person.

It felt a little cold, sharp. Like the air on the terrace, not cold enough to feel at the poles, but cool enough to bother you.

You still emanated that light, that warmth. He knew it, he had seen it only a few minutes before, but now it seemed feeble.

“Less than you think.”

At his words, blunt as ever, you had turned in his direction with a confused expression but before you could ask what he meant, he continued

“Why didn't you come to the Redbull pit?”

“Sorry what-”

“Why didn't you tell me you were coming to the races? I could've-”

“ I didn't have to tell you tho” you interrupted him by crossing his eyes as you leaned your arms on the railing ”We hadn't talked in ages, I couldn't just text you. It didn't feel right, you know?”

It didn't feel right to you to do a lot of things, you were like that as a kid and hadn't changed even as an adult, but he didn't think you would find yourself saying something like that to him.

It was true that you hadn't been in touch for a long time, and certainly mending relationships takes time, but he had never stopped to think about the fact that you might feel uncomfortable, as if you were disturbing him, in talking to him.

He was the person you preferred over everyone else

“Didn't think you knew I was there … Was it Vic who told you?”

He and Victoria talked, sure, but it wasn't like Vic was talking about you. Not to him, at least.

In fact, when they were both at their mother's house, and she happened to be on the phone with you, Victoria would switch rooms if he was around. She did the same when she was talking to someone about you and he was within earshot, if she didn't change the subject directly, let's be clear

“Heard you on the radio.”

His was a half-truth, if he had told you that he followed almost religiously every social communication from you he would have sounded more like a stalker than he already felt.

There was another silence, a little less tense than the previous one, which was short-lived anyway

“Heard the news” you had finally met his gaze ”for all that matters, I'm sorry.”

It hadn't taken him long to figure out what you were referring to; the fact that he and Kelly had broken up had been making the rounds on gossip sites even before they officially broke up, and once official they had been one of the most talked-about news stories in and out of the paddock.

It was a courtesy apology, but the fact that you were apologizing was somewhat ironic considering how much you were, albeit indirectly, involved in the situation.

The relationship with Kelly had been his corner of heaven since it began.

Kelly understood him on levels that no one seemed to reach, probably also complicit in her family history and her relationship with Daniil.

She did not marginalize him as most of the grid did.

She did not treat him like the kamikaze kid the media liked to write about.

She didn't look at him as if he might collapse into a thousand pieces like you did.

Being with Kelly made him feel good; he felt almost like when he was racing on the track, it was a great feeling.

When he was with Kelly he felt … understood.

Not to mention how he felt when he was with P: they had so much in common, Max could read them, those similarities, he could see so much of himself in the little bundle of tenderness that she was

He had a soft spot for P, and P seemed to have the same soft spot for him.

Or at least that was what the people around him said.

After a while, however, everything had become repetitive, boring, stagnant.

It wasn't bad, but not as pleasant as it was in the beginning either.

Something was missing.

The same something he sensed when he heard your voice, when he watched your expressions change.

It was something that made Max never tired of listening to you, that you never came across as boring, never dull.

Kelly knew this; she was neither stupid nor blind.

He didn't know how she knew, but it didn't matter so much.

Not when their last conversation had ended in screams and slamming doors.

“Mmmh” he didn't think there was any way to respond to what you said, so he merely nodded, ready to change the subject ”I can get you a pass, if you plan to watch the race.”

You laughed lightly, and Max felt that warmth again

“ If I plan to watch the race?” you had lifted your lips in that smile you used to make when you were joking ” I don't think you will ever find someone who's not here for the race. Well, they sure have other things to do, but you know what I mean.”

Yes, he knew. Formula 1 at the Montecarlo circuit was almost a sacred ritual, not only for people like you who lived there, but for the entertainment world in general.

Formula 1 was not called 'circus' by chance, the silly season was now intrinsic to its essence as Formula 1

“I appreciate the thought, but I already got my pass, but thank you,” you said as you began to walk away from the rail.

“Even for Quali?”

Max knew he had just made you a difficult offer to refuse, and it wasn't just your stopping to look at him, scrutinizing him, as if you were watching him for the first time, that made it obvious.

“You … have my attention.”

You were about to say something else, it was quite obvious, but Max was nevertheless pleased with your choice of words.

He was again the stated object of your attention, and he wasn't sure there was a feeling that felts as right as that

He had been talking to Raymond, while you pretended not to listen, deciding to focus on what was around you

Max didn't almost heard what Raymond was saying to him, so taken by the small, but sweet, smile on your face when you had heard the smile in Ray's voice greeting you

You had known Ray for as long as you had known the Verstappen family ,he had been his father's manager, it had seemed natural that he would take care of Max as well.

To be honest, Max didn't think you had who knows what relationship, he didn't even remember ever seeing you speak togheter, but from the small reaction of both of you, it seemed to him that he was missing something.

You gave him your email, your work email because you checked that one the most, so that Ray could contact you to get the details he needed.

When the call was over, you had thanked him, and asked him to apologize to Ray on your behalf for disturbing him at that ungodly hour. He had tried to reassure you; Raymond was used to keeping late hours.

That had earned him a look from you that was meant to be scolding, but had lost its value when you had chuckled, shaking your head

“You really are awful.”

And then Max had felt himself going back in time to when you were two kids with social difficulties, only unlike Max, you had stopped feeling comfortable only on the kart track.

Although you were sidelined, lots of people had come to say hello, to chat with you, to take pictures that you could post.

To enjoy your warmth, your light.

And you didn't seem the least bit uncomfortable, no longer hiding behind your kind smile and no longer giving the attention that was asked of you just so you wouldn't come across as rude, just because you were kind.

You were aware of your light, you had learned to handle it.

Perhaps, it was that awareness that made you so beautiful

you had always been but that night you were much more beautiful than he remembered.

[soaringwide]

Pick a Card: What makes you feel alive and inspired in life?

PILE 1 🩷 > PILE 2 🩵 > PILE 3 ❤️

We are all driven by different things, and it's easy to lose track of that when you are distracted by the noise of the world.

Today, I want to look at what lights up your spark, what makes you feel alive and inspired in life.

Whether you want to simply get to know yourself better, or get a little reassurance in a difficult time, this reading is meant to be empowering and uplifting, and help you remember what makes life feel soulful for you.

Remember that this is a general reading meant for many people. Take what resonates and leave out the rest. Never forget that you are the leader of your own life and you make the call on what you want to do, believe and think, or not.

If you like my style, feel free to check out my paid readings on ko-fi or the link bellow.

book a reading ★ all PACs ★ pinned post ★ instagram

PILE 1 🩷

Cards: The River, Ace of Cups, Judgement, the Devil, the Hermit, 3 of Pentacles

Life is a flowing journey for all, but you take it to heart.

You feel the most alive and inspired when you embrace what the great current of life brings to you in order to wash away the decaying parts of yourself and shed your old skin.

To you, life is all about transforming yourself. The Existential Grindstone putting pressure on what needs to change and forcing you to be born anew. You do not like being stagnant, for murky waters poison your sense of purpose. You like movement within yourself, and knowing that you are always growing, always learning and expanding.

You are not scared to go into the depths of yourself to face your own limitations and shortcomings. There is a humming in your heart, a whisper calling for change. You are an eternal student of life, dedicated to becoming a better person and experiencing life in its purest form: as a journey toward yourself. There is a well of patience and a vivid energy in you, merging wisdom gained from experience and the pure heart of youth.

There is a subnote about healing here, and I think, one some level, you feel the most soulful when you manage to shift things within you and witness the metamorphosis happening within yourself, so that you can sooth your pains and let go of the past. I see you being hyper aware of the darker or heavier aspects of yourself, and you are not scared of them because you know that within them lie the opportunity to bring more light, to expand and rise above. To break the chains stopping you from feeling truly alive.

I also believe that you wish for a fairer world, and that you know that it all start with yourself. And while appearing very in tune with your deeper self, which implies holding the most tender part of yourself secret, I know that you do not lose sight of the world around you, and that by building yourself, you can help build a better world too.

You will feel unaligned with life when you swim against the current. The world is a river carrying you and connecting us all, and in this life, you will feel the most alive and inspired when you accept to flow with it, to let events and people shape you, helping you build yourself, helping you write your own unique story.

PILE 2 🩵

Cards: The Castle, Death, 4 of Wands, the Lovers, Page of Pentacles, 10 of Cups

For this pile, I'm getting that you are well aware of the illusions of materialism and consumerism, and that you don't want to get lured in by dulling comfort and shiny luxuries. Most people accumulate things to build walls around them and to fill the void inside their soul, and it is possible that you were like that at some point, but you realized it led nowhere and embraced a deep change of your way of living and experiencing life.

I think your soul craves simplicity and honest connections with people, and that you feel the most alive when you manage to break away from the decadence of our post modern way of living next to each other (rather than truly together) and obsession with accumulating senseless things. "Why do we constantly need more, and when is more ever enough?" Could be a pretty significant idea for you and something your draw inspiration from.

You see this issue clearly and feel inspired by the dream of a more authentic and open world, and world that you could share with people you love and cherish.

It's like you want life to be a great party where everyone is equal and we all have enough to live and love freely, and when you manage to dive into that, do your part on your level, you feel invigorated, inspired and alive. It's also possible that you seek situations that encourage this feeling and feel inspired by that. Little moments of truth stolen from the surrounding madness that you see in the world.

I think connecting with people, from friends and family to heartfelt exchanges with strangers, is so important to you and make you feel soulful, and I see you either dreaming to have your own love nest (family of any kind, or community), or already having it and feeling the happiest when you can share these simple and authentic moments with your loved ones.

Life is a gift to be experienced with others, what is the point of living if only for yourself?

PILE 3 ❤️

Cards: The King, the Magician, 10 of Cups, 4 of Cups, 7 of Wands, Ace of Wands, Strength

You are someone who feels the most alive when you can lead the way and leverage your influence, skills and knowledge for the greater good and happiness of those around you.

You have a strong and proud soul, a regal heart and you know you can do lot of good with your positive influence, be it by protecting, leading or inspiring others to do more and better.

You are highly motivated and dedicated to make your wishes happen in the world. You feel highly stimulated when you are pushed to overcome struggles and obstacles, when you can rise above and prove yourself. You are highly resilient and will not let others make you feel small and weak. On the contrary, I think that inspires you to expand and become a greater version of yourself.

For you, time spent waiting passively for life to bring you what you want is wasted time. You find indecision and uncertainty distasteful and always strive to become more. The world will not open its doors for you if you do nothing, and you find that extremely stimulating and it gives you a sense of purpose that make you feel alive.

You might be someone who collects hobbies and passion because you enjoy learning and expanding your range of skills. You feel the most alive when you feel busy and can work hard on something you set your mind to. You want to be a master at many things, and you enjoy the process of reaching that point more than the actual end of the journey.

You want to be able to show the world all that you have accomplished, and it's pushing you forward and keeping your inspired.

[daisynik7]

Strawberry Soju

🎶 I don’t need another shot of you, but I got to, my strawberry soju 🎶

Pairing: Eren x f!reader

Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Genre: college au, enemies-to-lovers

Word Count: ~7.0k

cw: asshole!Eren, fratboy!Eren, subby!Eren, blowjob, cunnilingus, face riding, multiple orgasms, cowgirl, unprotected sex, alcohol, language.

Summary: Two weeks before graduation, you are finally done with your senior project. This calls for a celebration with your team, including the person who annoys you the most: Eren Jaeger. The two of you learn to put your differences aside for one night, starting with a bottle of strawberry soju. 

Notes: All characters are seniors in college (21-22 years old), engineering majors. Eren is a frat boy, so some details from my series Rush will be used, but no correlation to that story. Inspired by the song “Strawberry Soju”, which I’ve been obsessed with for the past two weeks. I had a lot of fun with this, so I hope you enjoy! Reblogs, likes, and/or comments are ALWAYS appreciated, thank you so much! 

“And now, we are proud to present the winner of this year’s Senior Project Showcase: Team Titan! For their omni-directional mobility gear, designed for construction workers in the field to ensure safety whilst elevated hundreds of feet in the air! Bravo, Team Titan! Bravo!”

Professor Pyxis’s announcement leaves you and your group flabbergasted. Sasha and Connie both have their jaws dropped. Eren, who sits beside you, throws his fist in the air, exclaiming, “Oh hell yeah!” You stay in your seat, in total shock.

Pyxis stares fondly at the four of you, beckoning you towards the stage in the main engineering lecture hall. “Don’t be shy, my young engineers, come here to accept your award!” Hesitantly, you all make your way behind the podium, a polite round of applause from the other students and faculty echoing throughout the room. 

Nearly an entire semester of work has led to this. Five months of grueling research, scrambling to acquire the right materials, complicated design issues that made you want to scream. Not to mention five months spent collaborating with the bane of your existence: Eren Jaeger. The award for first place barely makes up for a semester’s worth of torture; nonetheless, it’s still a pretty trophy.

It was fate that brought the four of you together back in January, the same fate that has spited you for whatever reason, forcing you to work alongside Eren, the most obnoxious, cocky, annoying person you have ever met in your short twenty-two years of living. While you had no issues with Connie or Sasha, you and Eren did not mesh. It’s been apparent since the beginning of the semester when you were chosen to be the team leader. He scoffed, claimed that he “would be a better choice, but whatever.” Your relationship with him was doomed from that day on. 

What’s odd is that he isn’t an asshole to the entire group; his less than pleasant behavior seems to be reserved for you, and only you. He gets on perfectly fine with Sasha and Connie, who have basically played mediator for you two, keeping as much of the peace as possible whenever an argument ensues. He usually instigates it, always making an unnecessary comment to get under your skin. At this point, you’re convinced he’s doing it on purpose just to get a rise out of you, because how can one human be this irritating?! 

Despite all the petty drama, you have to admit that he’s smart. Not only that, but he also works hard and gets shit done, no matter how much grief he gives you about it. And, if you squint hard enough, he maybe is, almost, sort of…hot. Strictly speaking from an objective standpoint, that is. Based on media-driven beauty standards and common qualities that are considered conventionally attractive by society. Of course, you will never, ever admit this aloud, especially not to him. You’re convinced that if he ever finds out, his massive head will explode, already overinflated from his gigantic ego. 

Your team crowds Pyxis, who happily hands you the trophy first. Eren, no surprise, snatches it from your clutches to hold it himself, kissing it and lifting it above him like he won a major league championship. You resist the urge to roll your eyes, trying to maintain professionalism in front of the watching staff. 

“Will your team leader give a few words about the project?” Pyxis asks, gaze on you, motioning to the stand. 

You tense up, usually nervous about public speaking. Clearing your throat, you lean into the mic. “Uh, thank you Professor Pyxis and the rest of the faculty for selecting our project. This has been a labor of love for the past five months and we are honored to have it recognized. We hope that this prototype and any of the research associated with it will help improve labor conditions for those working in construction, risking their lives every day.” 

You glance at Connie and Sasha to see if they’d like to add anything else. Connie adds, “Special shoutout to grad students Levi Ackerman, Erwin Smith, and Hange Zoe for helping us out a ton with our project, from offering advice to testing it out. We love you!” 

“And thank you Paradise Pizzeria and Café Utopia for fueling many late nighters throughout this whole semester! You rock!” Sasha exclaims, resulting in laughter from the audience. 

Eren grabs the mic from the stand, yelling, “This is dedicated to my fraternity brothers, for providing moral support during these trying times! Alpha Tau for life!” He holds the trophy in one hand, using the other to salute an inverted fist at his chest, sticking his tongue out.  

This time, you don’t contain your eye roll as the crowd laughs even louder, clearly amused by it. He passes the microphone back to Pyxis. “Fantastic! I love the enthusiasm of this team. Let’s give them all another big round of applause!”

After the presentation is over, Pyxis instructs, “They’d like to take your picture next to the ODM gear. The photographers are taking some shots of the other projects, so feel free to take your time heading to the Rose Center.” 

On the walk, Eren passes the trophy to Sasha. “What to hold it, Sash?”

“Sure! Still can’t believe we won!”

Connie puts his arm around her, staring at the prize. “I know it doesn’t really mean anything, but damn, is it nice to look at.”

Eren catches up to you, nudging you in the arm. “Would it have killed you to smile during your little speech?”

You shove your elbow into his ribs, a little harder than necessary. “I was smiling.” 

“You call that a smile? You looked like you were in a hostage situation. Like, blink three times if they’re hurting you type of deal,” he teases, that cocky smirk plastered on his face. 

“Like you were any better!” You stick your tongue out, mocking him. “Alpha Tau for life, bros!”

“I really meant it. I needed all the fucking help I could get, dealing with you this whole semester. If it weren’t for them, I would have gone fucking crazy because of you.”

“Oh right, because I’m the one driving you crazy, sure,” you respond, sarcastically.

“Hey, at least you’re admitting it! You’re finally making progress!” He claps in front of your face.

You shove him, glaring. “You are such a jerk.”

“Don’t be so sensitive, baby.”

“Oh, I am not your baby.”

Sasha jumps in between, yelling, “Enough! Both of you, stop it!!”

Connie joins in. “Yeah, we won today. Stop ruining the mood.”

Without you realizing it, the four of you have made it to the Rose Center, which is luckily vacant in the midst of your little spat with Eren. This is how your arguments usually go, all because of something petty that never leads anywhere. When the photographer arrives, they direct you to stand beside your project, already displayed in one of the glass windows. They take a couple of shots, then it’s over. Just like that, your senior project is officially done. There’s a huge weight lifted off your shoulders. All that’s left to do is to graduate. 

The sun is setting by the time the photoshoot is finished. The four of you exit the building, Sasha immediately announcing, “I’m hungry! Let’s get dinner one last time as a team!”

“I’m down for that. Any ideas where to go?” 

“Paradise Pizza?”

“No, we’ve had that way too many times this year. Let’s go somewhere special tonight.”

“There’s that all-you-can-eat Korean barbecue place downtown,” you suggest. “It’s only fifteen minutes away if we take the train.”

“Ooohh, I like the sound of that!”

“I’m down. Eren?”

He shrugs, hands in his pockets. That too-cool-to-care attitude apparent in his body language. “If that’s what everyone else wants, then I guess it’s fine.” If it had been either Sasha or Connie to suggest it, you know for a fact that he would have a more positive response. Because it’s you, he has to act like he’s being forced into it, reluctant to concede with absolutely everything you propose. 

You go your separate ways to change out of professional attire and into more comfortable clothes, agreeing to meet outside Eren’s in an hour. His apartment is closest to the train station, making it the most convenient. By 7:00PM, you’re inside the restaurant, seated at a table, grill fired up as you browse through the menu. Sasha, the ultimate foodie of the group, orders the first round of meats. You pick the drinks. 

“Two bottles of strawberry soju, please!” you tell the waiter. 

“Oh, I love soju!” Sasha squeals. 

You smile at her. “Me too. This flavor’s my favorite.”

Eren, who is somehow seated next to you, grunts. “Strawberry? Of course you’d pick some girly shit like that.”

“Hey man, don’t knock it till you try it,” Connie says. “This shit gets you fucked up fast. Trust me. I’ve gotten soju drunk before, and it’s awesome.”

He rolls his eyes in response. “Yeah, that’s because of all the extra fucking sugar, I bet. Sounds gross.”

The waiter arrives with the alcohol and four glasses, along with waters to share. You do the honors and pour everyone, except Eren, a shot. “I’m guessing you don’t want any of this gross soju, then?”

He snatches the shot glass, thrusting it towards you. “I didn’t say that. Just pour me some.” 

With glasses filled to the brim, you all cheers, then throw it back. The familiar flavor is refreshing and sweet on your tongue, smooth down your throat. 

“Shit, that’s good!” Connie raves.

“Strawberry might be my new favorite flavor! It’s so yummy!”

You face Eren, grinning. “Well?”

He shrugs, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “It’s alright.”

“Don’t lie to me. You like it, don’t you?” you tease, nudging him in the arm.

“I said it’s fine, okay?”

You stop pestering him, satisfied knowing that maybe you were finally right about something when it comes to him.

Soon, a plethora of tasty side dishes are scattered on the table. Rice, kimchi, fresh lettuce, potato salad, two helpings of steamed eggs to share. Three heaping plates of meat follow. Sasha begins barbequing, laying out portions of beef bulgogi on the hot grill as the rest of you watch hungrily, the steam and aroma surrounding you like a cozy embrace. Once it’s cooked, you help yourselves, stuffing your faces with perfectly grilled meat and whatever else you desire. Several bites in, you all decide to do another round of shots, first bottle almost finished.

“Good idea to do KBBQ tonight!” Sasha mentions. “I haven’t had it in a while. I forgot how much I love it.”

Connie chimes in, “Same! Which side dish is everyone’s favorite?”

Sasha immediately points to the potato salad. “Is there any doubt that mine would be this?”

“Of course we all know that potato girl. I like kimchi. What’s yours?”

You pick out your favorite. “This one, for sure.”

Eren makes an unapproving noise. “Of course you’d pick that. So basic.”

To keep the peace, especially on this night of celebration, you ignore the temptation to reply with an equally sassy comment. Instead, you ask, “Well, what’s your favorite, Eren?” 

“The steamed egg. It’s delicious and packs an extra serving of protein.” He flexes his bicep with a smug expression. “Not that I really need it.”

Connie and Sasha laugh, while you take a deep breath, using every ounce of willpower to keep your cool. You crack open the bottle, downing the remaining alcohol to help you get through the rest of the night.

“What’s everyone’s plans after graduation?” Connie asks.

Sasha answers first. “I’ll be working with my dad for our family business.”

“I’m sure Artur will appreciate all the new, high-tech engineering skills you have! If I’m still unemployed in two months, can you please hire me?”

“Of course!”

“What about you, Eren?”

“I got an offer in Marley,” he reveals. “It’s a pretty good gig, but I don’t know about moving overseas. I got another in Stohess to work for their weapons warehouse, so maybe I’ll accept that instead.”

“I’ve never been overseas,” you comment. “Sounds interesting if you do decide to go.” 

“Well, you’re wrong. It doesn’t sound interesting at all.”

Even your attempt at being polite is met with malice. “You always argue with me for the sake of arguing.”

He turns to face you, brows furrowed. “No I don’t!”

“You’re literally doing it right now! I was just trying to be nice.”

“Well, try harder,” he grumbles, picking meat off the grill.

“My god, you two are exhausting!” Sasha intervenes. 

Connie nods. “Seriously, don’t you get tired of fighting all the time?”

“Honestly, you two should do it and get it over with.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Eren leers at Sasha through the smoke. 

“I’m saying get all your anger out by fucking each other. Hate sex is the best medicine for situations like this,” she explains, matter of fact.

“No fucking way,” Eren says. “It’s not like that.”

“Definitely not,” you reiterate, cheeks warm. You pour yourself another shot, already on the second bottle, not offering a serving to anyone else. Desperate for liquor with the direction this conversation is going.

“Wow, you two actually agree on something for once!” Connie teases. “See? Isn’t this nice?”

The duo giggle together, finding enjoyment from your current state of misery. Eren clears his throat, muttering something unintelligible. He reaches for the soju in front of you, avoiding your gaze as he tips it into his empty shot glass, instantly downing it. Before the silence gets awkward, you change the subject, mentioning some idle gossip you heard around the engineering department, to which Connie and Sasha have plenty to contribute to. 

An hour later, the four of you manage to finish most of the food, only a few pieces of charred meat left over. Sasha and Connie rub their stomachs, satisfied by the feast. You and Eren end up finishing the last bottle between the two of you. Since the comment from earlier, neither of you have spoken directly, avoiding each other. 

Connie slumps into the chair, patting his belly. “Let’s play a game while we digest! Truth or eat. If you don’t answer, you have to eat these burnt pieces of bulgogi.”

Eren laughs. “That sounds fun. I’m down.” He looks to you, brow raised, challenging. “You in, princess?”

You bite your cheek, holding in the clever retort at his annoying nickname for you, also relieved he’s back to normal. “Sure, why not?”

“I’ll go first,” Sasha volunteers, sitting up in her seat. “Eren, who’s the freakiest brother in Alpha Tau?” 

Without hesitating, he states, “Armin, for sure.”

“Armin?! Really?”

“Yup. He’s one kinky motherfucker,” he grins. He turns to face you. “Why do you hate me so much?”

“You want the whole essay, or an abridged version?” you reply, smirking as you sip on your water.

Sasha giggles while Connie mutters under his breath, “Oh boy.”

Eren doesn’t let up. “Give me one reason.”

Contemplating which of the many grievances you should expose about him, you finally decide on one. “You always disagree with me, no matter what. Whether it’s something about the project, or something as simple as a side dish preference.”

“We already know that, though. What else?”

“Hey, you wanted one reason, and I gave it to you.” You think for a few seconds, adding, “And to be fair, hate is a strong word. I don’t hate you.”

It’s true. While he annoys you beyond your wit’s end, you don’t hate him. He’s a quarter of the reason you all achieved what you did. You focus back on the table, avoiding Eren’s expression. “Connie, have you two ever hooked up?” you question, pointing at the duo.

“Gross! No!”

“Absolutely not. We’re practically twins. That’d be illegal.”

“Yup. We’re basically two halves of a whole idiot.” 

You laugh with them, taking another sip of water as Connie poses a question to Eren. “Why do you give her such a hard time?” he asks, referring to you. 

“Here we go,” you mumble, ready for an onslaught of ridiculous reasons.

It’s silent for a few moments, then he takes his chopsticks, grabbing at the charred meat on the grill, placing it into his mouth to eat quietly.

“What?!” Sasha yells. “You’re not going to tell us?” 

Connie smirks. “Must be pretty bad, then.”

You watch him slowly chew the burnt food, a small smile on his face. As if there’s a secret he’s keeping from everybody else at the table. Why would he refuse to answer the question that he basically asked you? Is his hatred for you that intense that he chooses not to say it, to save you from humiliation? What could you have possibly done to him to warrant this kind of treatment? Maybe it’s the liquor leading you to jump to conclusions, to be slightly offended by his choice. Maybe even a little hurt. 

When he’s done, he chugs his whole water. “Alright, my turn again.”

“Wait, really?”

“We’re just going to pretend that didn’t happen?”

“Yup,” he responds, nonchalant. 

“Why?”

“Hey, I ate that shit, right? Let it go,” he states, more aggressively this time.

You remain silent, mind racing with all types of ideas. You pay no more attention to the game, contemplating all the possible reasons Eren Jaeger would hate you so much. To be fair, he’s the one who starts it first. All you do is defend yourself. Why would he have any bigger reason to dislike you more than you dislike him?

Connie yells out your name, breaking you out of your reverie. “Hey, are you in?”

“Huh?”

“Karaoke! There’s a bar down the street.”

After paying the check, split evenly, the four of you head to the karaoke bar, booking a private room for an hour. You all sing your hearts out while sobering up from whatever buzz you developed from the soju. Any strange concerns you had about Eren evaporate. The two of you even seem to get along, performing a few duets together.

On the train ride back near campus, the four of you share more laughs, enjoying possibly the last time you’ll be together. With everyone graduating and off to their own paths, it’s hard to tell when, or if, you’ll ever see each other again.  

From the station, you start you trek home, pausing outside Eren’s apartment to chat a bit more, until Sasha says, “I guess this is goodbye!”

“Yeah, thanks for all your hard work. This was really fun,” Connie adds, smiling. 

“We should all try to keep in touch.”

Eren hugs Connie, then Sasha. The two of you look at each other, contemplating if you should embrace also. Suddenly, you blurt out, “Actually, can I use your bathroom? I have to pee.”

You really do have to pee, but surely, you could have made it the extra ten minutes to your own apartment to do so, right? For some reason, your mind convinces you to stay with him just a little longer. There’s a pending task you have to complete before you part ways for good. You hope for closure, to end things on a good note. 

You, Connie, and Sasha exchange hugs, leaving with a final wave, disappearing into the distance. Despite the pleasant warmth of the summer night, there’s a noticeable chill in the air. Not from the weather, rather, from the growing tension surrounding you and Eren. His voice is quiet when he says, “Alright, I guess we can head in now.”

You nod, following him through the entrance. At the elevator, he swipes a keycard, pushing the button to go up to the third floor. The doors open and you step in, still not speaking a word. Arriving at his door, he unlocks it, holding it for you. 

“Bathroom is down to the right,” he points, removing his shoes at the entrance.

You copy him, sliding out of your sneakers. “Okay cool. Thank you.” 

Once you find the bathroom, you swiftly close the door, fully aware that you are inside Eren Jaeger’s apartment. Naturally, curiosity gets the best of you. With a quick glance around the room, you can tell he’s tidy. Towels hung properly, actual floor mats on the tiles, toilet seat down. Is he anticipating a visit from a friend? Maybe a lover? You can’t help letting your imagination run wild. 

Finished with your business, you walk out of the bathroom to find him sitting on the couch, television playing a show you’re familiar with. “Have you seen this episode yet? The new season just started,” you mention, stepping towards him.

He stands up, turning to face you. “I haven’t. Was planning to watch it tonight.”

“Cool,” is all you manage to utter. 

There’s another moment of awkward silence until he asks, “You want to watch it with me?”

Without thinking, you agree.

The two of you sit on opposite ends of the couch, watching in silence. About halfway through, with a soft chuckle, he admits, “That strawberry soju wasn’t bad. Actually, it was pretty good.”

This catches you off guard. You look at him, grinning. “Wow. It took you this long to finally come clean about it.”

“Better late than never, right?” He keeps his eyes forward, smirking. 

You adjust, completely facing him. “Since you’re being honest about that, can you tell me why you didn’t answer Connie’s question?”

He plays dumb. “What question?”

“Why do you give me such a hard time?”

He clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “You’re still thinking about that?”

“Yeah, I am,” you confess. “Seems a little odd to me that wouldn’t just say it.”

Finally, he matches you, repositioning himself to set his gaze on yours. “Why do you care so much?”

“I’m curious. Since we’ll be graduating soon, we’ll probably never see each other again. I figured we should put everything out there. Get some closure. Make amends.”

He scoffs. “I wasn’t aware there were any amends to make.”

You’re getting annoyed now, impatient with his round-about comments. “Seriously? You think our relationship is normal?”

“I don’t think we have a relationship at all.”

You stand up, regretting being here in the first place. He’s the same asshole he’s always been. What we’re you expecting? Why would he be any different tonight? 

“Fine. Forget it. What a waste of time. Good job on the project, and I hope you have a great life.” You stomp towards the exit, not bothering to look at him.

Suddenly, his hand shoots out, gripping you loosely around the wrist. “Wait. Don’t go.”

You glare at him, eyes narrowed in frustration, skin tingly from the physical contact. Waiting for him to elaborate.

“I’m sorry, okay?” he stammers. “I’m not…I can’t really…” he trails off, not finishing his sentences.

When he doesn’t proceed, you ask, “Why do you hate me so much?”

“I don’t hate you.”

“Then why do you treat me this way? Why me?”

He swallows hard, the truth difficult for him to spit out. “It’s dumb.” 

“I don’t care. Just tell me.”

He lets out a sigh, averting his gaze to the floor. “It’s because I like you, okay?” 

It takes a moment for you to process what he’s saying. Eventually, you stammer, “You like me?”

“Yeah, I like you,” he reiterates, still staring at his own feet. “You’re cute. You’re the smartest person I know. And you’re also a fucking pain in my ass. But I like you.”

That last part would normally have you on the verge of swinging; however, it’s almost endearing the way he says it. Your sudden change in heart has you questioning if you’re drunk from the liquor you consumed hours ago. “Why would you treat me like this if you like me?”

Another deep sigh as he explains, “I don’t know. Because I’m a fucking idiot and I’m immature. I told you, it’s dumb.”

“It’s not dumb. I just…I didn’t expect this.”

More silence falls between you two. You look down at his big hand still holding you, racing heartbeat reverberating through your chest. You’re not sure how to react. So, you go with your instinct. 

You kiss him.

~~~

Eren doesn’t know why he started it months ago at the beginning of the semester. If he’s being completely honest, he’s got the body of Greek god, the intelligence of a genius, and the maturity, or in this case, immaturity, of a fifth grader. That being said, whatever it is that he has going with her, he’s decided to classify it as a schoolboy crush. Like a kid on the playground picking on another kid, doing everything they can to garner all their attention, no matter how annoying it is. 

It began with snide remarks here and there, nothing ever too cruel to be considered bullying, but enough to make her bite back. He’s not sure why he kept it up so long, especially after realizing he actually likes her. In his mind, negative attention is better than no attention at all. He can’t be normal around her; being a nuisance is what he’s comfortable with.

Another reason is that he’s intimidated by her. She could see right through his cocky demeanor. Break him down into the vulnerable little shit he really is. The grief he caused her is some bizarre defense mechanism, a way to deny his true feelings for her. All to protect himself and his heart. 

He was supposed to go to a frat party tonight after hanging out with the team. Instead, he finds himself alone with her in his apartment, everything revealed, his confession hanging heavy in the air. 

Even more unexpected is her leaning forward to kiss him, lips soft and gentle against his. Hesitant and uncertain. Sweet and tangy from the lingering essence of the strawberry soju from earlier. Before he gets carried away, he pulls off, whispering, “Are you sure about this?”

“No,” she admits. “But I can’t deny that I’m curious.”

“We shouldn’t do this then. It doesn’t feel right.”

“Just…shut up and let me check something.”

He obeys, closing his eyes, waiting for her move. She kisses him again, more confidentially this time, hand sliding to his nape to pull him closer. 

“Fuck, are you sure this is okay?” he breathes out, slowly losing his composure.

She nods, smiling. “Yes.”

“You’re positive?”

“Yes.”

“Absolutely certain?”

“If you ask me one more time, you’re really going to piss me off,” she warns, grazing her mouth along his neck, sucking at the skin of his throat.

He nods erratically. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. Fuck.”

She pushes him back towards the couch, falling into the cushions. He watches in awe as she strips her sweatpants, revealing pink lacey panties.  She sits in his lap, legs spread wide with him between, clothed pussy against his pulsating cock. His hands are to his sides, clenched to the cushion of the couch. With her lips brushing his ear, she whispers, “You can touch me if you want.”

His cock twitches, erection growing by the second as she straddles him. Carefully, he slides his palms around her waist, moaning a trembling, “Thank you.” Hands at her bottom, he squeezes her ass cheeks in a firm grasp, fingers slipping underneath the fabric, dangerously close to her arousal.

Without thinking, he blurts out, “Use me. Do what you want with me. You’re the leader.”

There’s a wicked smile on her face as soon as he says it. “Eren Jaeger is going to let me use him?”

All pride is thrown out the window. He doesn’t care anymore about giving into weakness. With graduation only two weeks away, and no promise of ever seeing each other again, he decides fuck it. He’s going to do whatever he can to fulfill this fantasy of his. And if that means submitting to her, begging and groveling at her feet, he’ll fucking do it. 

“Yeah,” he growls. “Use me as your fuck toy. I’ll do whatever you want. Just fucking use me.”

“Didn’t think Alpha Tau’s frat star would behave like this,” she murmurs, sucking on his ear lobe. 

“Does it turn you on?”

“Maybe.”

“Good. Fucking wreck me apart then. Don’t hold back,” he demands. There’s already precum leaking from his tip, soaking through the cotton of his briefs. “Consider it payback for this semester.”

She responds by grinding her hips on his lap. He’s desperate to feel her without fabric separating them, but he knows what he agreed to. He can’t do anything without her permission, without her initiating. She rides him for another minute, his palms on her ass, following her motions. His cock throbs beneath her, aching for release from the confines of his pants. There’s an audible whine developing in his throat, needy for anything.

On cue, she swings her leg over to kneel beside him, tugging at the waistband of his sweats and underwear. He lifts his hips as she slides them off simultaneously, freeing his stiff cock. He watches her marvel at his erection, noticing desire in her eyes. Before he knows it, she’s bent towards his lap, mouth hovering his dick, licking at the slit. 

“Fuck,” he moans. “Goddamn.”

She continues to tease him, leaving the shaft untouched, tongue swirling the tip, lapping at his precum. 

“Fuck, please. Touch me,” he begs, legs quivering from arousal. 

Without warning, she wraps her fist around him, surrounding the tip with her mouth, bobbing up and down in sync with her strokes. She starts slow, increasing the pace with each guttural moan that emits within his chest. The temptation to buck his hips into her warm, wet heat is tantalizing, but he reminds himself that she’s in control, which only turns him on more.

She uses her other hand to fondle his balls, causing him to swear loudly. “Fuck!”

He feels the vibration of her giggle through his cock, clearly enjoying the way she’s unravelling him, his orgasm approaching fast. “Can I please come?”

She shakes her head, still working his dick. 

“Fuck. I can’t…I can’t hold it.” 

She releases him from her mouth, stroking him, face close to his. “You think you deserve to come now?”

He nods eagerly. “Yes.”

“Apologize first.”

“Huh?”

“Apologize. Admit that you’re a fucking asshole.” She nibbles on his ear lobe, dragging it down between her lips, still jerking him off. 

“I’m sorry. I’m a,” he chokes on his spit before he can finish. “Fucking asshole.”

“Tell me your desperate for it. That you need it.” 

“Fuck, I’m so fucking desperate, I fucking need it. Please.”

“Good,” she whispers, pumping him faster. She kisses him on the lips, grip tight around him as his cock swells, hanging by a thread at the edge of his climax. “Go ahead. Come for me, Eren.”

At the sound of his name on her sultry lips, he does, hot cum shooting straight onto his t-shirt. “Fuck!” he yells, eyes shut tight, riding out one of the best orgasms of his life. She strokes him until his balls are completely drained. Finally, he opens his eyes to inspect the scene, shocked by the mess painted across the bottom of his shirt, spilling onto his abdomen. 

“Holy shit,” he mutters, smiling at her.

She grins back at him. “Not bad, right?”

“Not bad at all. Really fucking good, actually.” He kisses her, fingers drifting down to her arousal, rubbing the fabric against her clit. “Come here. Let me eat this pretty pussy out. Please. I want it so bad.”

“Since you said it so nicely, I guess I can let you have a taste.” 

~~~

You stand up, leaving room for him to lay down on the couch. He doesn’t need to be told. He expects you to ride that pretty face of his. When he’s flat on his back, shirt stripped off and completely naked, he turns to watch you slip out of your panties.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he praises, reaching down to rub his balls. “I think about this a lot, you know.”

You toss your underwear to the floor, watching him play with himself, removing your remaining clothes. “What do you think about?”

“This. You, naked in my apartment. Riding my face till you come. Fucking your wet pussy right after.”

“I guess tonight’s your lucky night,” you tease, lifting your knee across him, straddling his face. 

“Yes, it is,” he replies, licking his lips, eyes wide with lust at your pussy above him, already wet with arousal. He cranes his neck upwards, tongue out, desperate for a taste.

“Not yet.” You lift up enough so he’s out of reach. “Watch me play with myself first.”

“Fuck,” he swears, salivating.  

You wet your middle finger with your slick, rubbing circles around your clit. He watches in a daze, biting his lower lip, brows knit together in concentration, focused on you pleasuring yourself right above him. He squirms beneath you, thrusting his hips into the air, in an effort to feel anything. “Get it fucking juicy for me, baby. I want to fucking drown in it.”

The little nicknames you’ve grown accustomed to hating has a very different ring to it now. For the first time all semester, you don’t mind it. You actually like it. With your free hand, you run your fingers through his hair, redirecting his gaze on yours. “That’s right. I’m your baby. And what are you?”

He swallows hard. “I…I don’t know.”

“You’re my fuck toy.”

“Fuck yeah. I’m your fuck toy, baby. I’m your fuck toy. Use me, please.”

With your grip firm on his hair, you sink lower, your pussy pressed to his open mouth. He licks your clit, swiping his wide tongue over it, moving side to side. You moan at the glorious sensation, rocking your hips across his face to feel more. He latches onto your swollen bud, humming in pleasure as he suckles on it. His hips rut into nothing again, arms at his sides, clutching hard at the cushions, letting you be in total control. This power he gives you turns you on more than you imagined. Maybe because all semester, he always acted as if he had the upper hand. Knowing how desperate he is to be beneath you, to please you beyond any other desire he has, it only spurs you on. 

You grind yourself on his face, the squelching noises indicating how sloppy he’s eating you out and how wet you’re becoming because of it. He’s relentless, alternating between licking, slurping, and sucking at your clit. You blissfully indulge in it until you climax on his tongue, bud over-stimulated, pussy soaked with his spit and your slick. 

“Fuck,” he muffles, slurping the cum from your sleek entrance. Legs wobbly from your orgasm, you lift off him, shifting to reposition yourself comfortably on top. His cock is hard beneath you, sticky with his cum from earlier. Through shiny lips, he whines, “I’m so fucking hard again. Fuck me. Fuck me with that wet pussy.”

Reaching behind you, you align him with your slit, sinking down on his shaft. He lets out a gasp, “I’m so fucking sensitive, fuck.” Concerned, you attempt to lift off, but he shakes his head fervently. “Don’t. Please baby. Fuck me till I come. I need it. I need it.”

You ride him, bouncing your ass on his lap, thrusting his cock deep inside you. He moans loudly, babbling filthy words from his needy mouth.

Use this cock, baby. Fuck me like a toy. 

Make yourself come on this dick. 

It’s all fucking yours. Take it, baby. Take it. 

I’m all yours. I’m all yours.

You moan with him, another climax approaching. Grabbing his wrist, you guide him to your clit. He caresses your puffy bud with his fingers. “I’m going to come,” you whimper.

“Can I come with you, princess? Please, can I come inside you?”

You nod wordlessly, pumping him in and out of you faster as he rubs your clit relentlessly, determined to make you orgasm. When you cry out in ecstasy, he joins you. “Fuck, I’m coming. I’m coming, baby.”

For the second time tonight, both of you come, this time together. He spills inside you, filling your cunt with his warm, creamy load as you coat his dick with yours. Your body is spent from the euphoria, throat dry from whining in pleasure, and your curiosity satiated. It’s a lie to say you’ve never imagined being fucked silly by Eren. No matter how much he annoyed you, irritated you, aggravated you, there were moments this semester when you thought about it. How good it would feel to ride him, fuck him dumb until he’s begging for release. 

“I’m exhausted,” he giggles, limp on the couch, softening cock still inside you, wrapping you in a snug embrace.

“Me too.” You settle into his arms, relaxed and comfortable against his chest. 

“Thank you,” he mutters, caressing your back tenderly. “Thank you.” He doesn’t elaborate, repeating it a few more times as he nuzzles his nose into the top of your head.

You cuddle together in a comfortable silence. “Sleep here tonight. I have an extra toothbrush and you can wear my clothes.” 

Accepting his offer, the two of you start tidying, picking up strewn wardrobe from the floor, wiping away the sticky aftermath of sex. You hop in the shower, rinsing your bodies clean, exchanging passionate kisses while the water splashes you. After you dry off and brush your teeth, you change into an oversized t-shirt and a pair of boxers he lends you, jumping into the bed beside him. He smiles at you. “You look good in my clothes.”

You give him a smooch, getting yourself cozy under the covers. He spoons you, arm sliding over your waist, interlacing his fingers with yours. His breath is pleasantly warm on your neck. “I know we’re probably past this already, but I want to formally apologize. It wasn’t right the way I treated you, and I’m sorry. Genuinely.”

“Apology accepted,” you respond, squeezing his hand. “I’m sorry too. For saying anything that hurt you out of anger.”

“You don’t have to be. I deserved it.”

“Still, I’m sorry. And no one deserves that.”

“All is forgiven then.” He chuckles softly. “For two smart people, we sure are dumb.”

You laugh with him. “If only we were a tad bit smarter, we could have started this months ago.”

“Yeah," he says, nestling his face against your neck. "You’re right.”

Nothing else is said as the two of you drift into sleep. It’s nice, having closure on a previously volatile relationship. However, something else lingers after tonight. Another door opens, leading to the unknown. He confessed his true feelings for you. You didn’t have time to process it, too focused on settling your truce through sex. While there’s no doubt that you find him physically attractive, can you really move on from the past and give him a chance? 

~~~

The words are on the tip of his tongue, and he decides to keep it that way, not wanting to disrupt this moment of peace. Not wanting to complicate it any further. He knows that this is the beginning and the end of whatever this fling is. She hasn’t reciprocated his feelings and he won’t pressure her to, not tonight. Maybe not ever. No matter how badly he wishes to see her again, keep in touch, make it official, he won’t ask that of her. At the end of the day, it’s his own fault for waiting too long, for being too late. Time has run out, and now he’s paying the price.

They stay in each other’s arms, Eren listening closely to the sound of her steady breathing. Cherishing how her fingers fit seamlessly in his, the small smile on her lips as she drifts into a tranquil slumber, the warmth and weight of her body against his.  

The next morning, he wakes up, alone. If not for the stack of clothes he let her borrow folded neatly at the end of the bed, he would have thought last night’s events were all a dream. He vaguely recalls her waking up beside him, placing a chaste kiss on his forehead, sneaking out on her tippy toes at the crack of dawn. Still, he searches the apartment, calling out her name to no response. 

Throughout the week, he’s constantly on the verge of texting her. He never goes through with it, though, scared to be rejected. Afraid of having the final memory of her be one of heartbreak. 

As a last-ditch effort, he devises a plan. Eren hosts a party at his place to celebrate the upcoming graduation. He invites the Alpha Tau brothers, plus some sorority girls for good measure. However, his main objective is to invite her. He ends up sending a group text to his senior project team, casually informing them of his little gathering. Sasha and Connie both reply, announcing their attendance, but she doesn’t.

At the party, he tries not to think about her, distracting himself by socializing with the crowds of people already filling his apartment. When Connie and Sasha arrive together, he decides to try one more time before he consumes his sorrows away. After exchanging polite greetings with them, he asks, “Have you guys heard anything from her?”

“Nope. I don’t think she even texted back, right?”

Eren’s ready to reach for the closest container of booze he can find. The duo walks past him to enjoy the party while he remains standing, watching the door for another minute. Just as he’s about to turn his heel, he sees it open slowly. 

She walks in, her favorite drink in hand, a happy expression on her face as soon as she spots him. In the background, someone yells out, “Eren! Tequila shots?”

Waving the familiar bottle at him, she smiles.

“Nah,” Eren responds, gazing at her with a grin. “I’m sticking with strawberry soju from now on.”

--------------------

Taglist: @liliorsstuff-blog @batafuraikisu @bloompompom @belovedackerman @wtfiswrongwithme1

[thepencilnerd]

Shadowboxing

summary: Chishiya's world is carefully constructed—until the night you see the stellar medical student in an underground fighting ring. The lines blur between the mask he wears and the man he really is, and you find yourself drawn into a reality that’s far more raw and dangerous than you ever imagined. word count (ch. 1): 1.8k genre: university!AU, OoC!Chishiya (not just his dark hair) x fem!grad student reader warnings: depictions of violence but nothing too graphic, fluff, angst, comfort, weighted discussions about mental health because it matters a/n: I watched Mirai e no 10 Count last night and am whipped for boxer Chishiya; complete fic here <3 full moodboards here ^-^

You were dozing off at your desk, the soft glow of your laptop casting a dim light over your cluttered dorm room. Piles of papers and books were scattered everywhere—typical imagery of a grad student. The remnants of snack wrappers and multiple mugs were piling up at the corner of your desk, and your eyes burned from staring at the screen for hours. You didn't even realize you had nodded off until a loud banging rattled your door. Startling awake, you heard the voice of Kuina on the other side, her shouts muffled but insistent. "Come on, open up! You can't spend all night cooped up in here!" she yelled. You groaned, rubbing your eyes as you stood up. "I'm busy," you called back, though the exhaustion in your voice made it clear how true that was.

"Busy doing what? Staring at your laptop until your brain turns to mush? You need a break," they argued. You sighed, opening the door to find her grinning at you, eyes wide with excitement. "Please, I promise you'll thank me later. You need this."

"What even is this?" you asked, narrowing your eyes suspiciously.

"An exciting, thrilling night event! Come on, trust me! It'll be fun," she insisted, practically bouncing on their feet.

You gave her a skeptical look. "This better not be like the time you dragged me to that 'artsy' film screening that turned out to be four hours of experimental interpretive dance."

She laughed, shaking her head. "I swear, it's nothing like that. Just think of it as... an adventure. Something different for once."

You sighed, but the look on her face—full of energy and determination—made it hard to refuse, her unwavering insistence even more so. "Fine, fine. But if this turns out to be some weird cult meeting or something, I'm out."

"Deal!" she grinned, grabbing your hand and practically dragging you out of your dorm.

Against your better judgment, curiosity got the best of you, at least until you were led down a narrow staircase, the thudding bass echoing through the walls, and into a dark coliseum-esque pit: an underground boxing ring. The stench of sweat and adrenaline filled the room, a large crowd gathered around the makeshift ring, chanting and cheering.

The place was alive, buzzing with a sort of desperation you'd never witnessed before. The announcer had mentioned the winner's prize—a sum large enough to make a difference in someone's life, which only seemed to add to the intensity of the match. Kuina leaned in close, her voice barely audible over the roar of the crowd. "Okay, so here are the rules. The fighters are masked to keep their identities secret, and they're all wearing color-coded gear to make it easy to tell them apart," she explained, gesturing to the ring. "They fight until one of them is either knocked out or can't continue. The winner gets a big cash prize—enough to pay off debts or even start over somewhere else." You nodded, your eyes fixed on the fighters. The fighters were masked, their identities hidden behind color-coded attire and dark headgear, as they traded punches in the middle of the ring. It was chaos—raw, unbridled violence as each combatant swung for victory, fighting not only for pride but also for the significant prize money at stake. You could feel the desperation in the air, as if each punch thrown was driven by the promise of escape from something dire.

Your eyes were drawn to the fighter in blue. He moved differently from the rest—sharp, calculated, almost detached. His footwork was precise, each step deliberate, as if he was constantly analyzing his opponent's weaknesses. He circled his opponent, his body relaxed yet ready to strike at any moment, while the other fighter grew increasingly frantic, throwing punches that barely grazed the air. The fighter in blue waited, his eyes never leaving his target, calculating each movement. When he finally struck, it was with ruthless precision—a quick combination of blows that left his opponent stumbling. He delivered a final, powerful uppercut that ended the match, his opponent collapsing to the ground. The crowd erupted in cheers, but he remained unfazed, his expression unreadable behind the mask, as if the victory meant nothing more than another task completed.

You shivered, more at the calm, almost indifferent way he stood victorious than at the raw physicality of it all. His physique was lean but muscular, built for speed and precision rather than brute strength. Sweat dripped from his brow, trailing down his neck, mixing with a thin trail of his own blood—he must have taken a hit. A faint smear of blood could also be seen at the edge of his gloves, likely from his opponent. 

Kuina was hyped after the fight. On the walk back to campus, she couldn't stop talking about how it was the perfect night for you to come, especially since the blue fighter was renowned in the underground scene. "He's the best, you know," she said, practically glowing with excitement. "No one can beat him. People come just to watch him fight. I can't believe you got to see him in action on your first time there!" You nodded absentmindedly, her words echoing in your mind. The best. There was something about him that seemed almost familiar, but you shook the thought away, dismissing it as nothing more than your imagination.

The next day, you found yourself at the library, surrounded by books that were supposed to be helping with your dissertation. The quiet was a stark contrast to the chaos of the night before. As you scanned the shelves, you couldn't help but think how all the open access publications in the world couldn't save you from having to deal with what a traditional manuscript was—sifting through an actual physical book that felt almost as archaic as the medieval ages. You searched for a particular reference, balancing a stack in your arms as you leaned up to reach a higher shelf.

And that's when it happened—a shoulder knocked past you, sending your grip slipping and your books tumbling to the floor. You cursed under your breath and knelt down, trying to gather them up, feeling a sense of dread at how loud the clatter had been in the silence of the library.

Suddenly, a pair of hands reached down, helping you pick up the scattered books. You looked up, startled. A figure with his hood pulled up, his face partially obscured, was kneeling across from you, silently helping you collect your fallen stack. His movements were efficient, almost practiced, as if he was used to picking up after others, and there was something calm yet purposeful about the way he handled each book, stacking them neatly before handing them back to you.

You blinked, recognition tugging at your mind. He was familiar—the top student in the medical school, Chishiya Shuntaro. He had a reputation that was nearly impossible to miss, even in your circles as a doctoral student. Exceptionally intelligent, surprisingly aloof, and no doubt untouchable, he was the one everyone wanted to be close to but no one could approach. There were rumors, of course—that he was some kind of cold-hearted player, or a bored genius looking to kill time in his twenties. Stories about him lurked everywhere, each one more unbelievable than the last.

As he handed you the last of your books, his hood shifted, and you caught sight of a gash across his eyebrow. It was well-padded and hidden under gauze, but the skin around was raw and swollen, clearly fresh. The sight made you pause, your eyes narrowing as you pieced together the oddity of it—the hood, the attempt to hide, the injury. Your mind flashed back to the underground ring—the crowd's roars, the masked fighters, the way he moved, the precision of his strikes, and now this injury—it all started to line up. It couldn't be...

Chishiya met your gaze, his eyes narrowing slightly as if daring you to ask. There was a hint of challenge there, almost as if he was amused by the thought of you confronting him. He seemed entirely unbothered, as if the whole situation was just another game to him—a game where he held all the cards, waiting to see if you were bold enough to make the first move. The moment seemed to stretch, your curiosity battling with the tension hanging between you. But you stayed silent, and so did he. He simply handed you your books, his fingers brushing yours for the briefest moment, before he pulled the hood back over his head and stood up.

Without a word, he turned and walked away, his mind already shifting back to the secrecy he guarded so carefully. He knew he couldn't afford to let anyone get too close, not with the double life he was leading. But there was something about the look in your eyes—curiosity mixed with hesitation—that lingered with him. He shook the thought away, refocusing as he moved through the library, leaving you there with your heart pounding for reasons you couldn't quite explain.

That evening, you were back in your dorm, the events of the day replaying in your mind as you sat at your desk. The dim light of your lamp illuminated your scattered notes, and you tried to focus on your proposal, but your thoughts kept drifting back to Chishiya—the way his eyes seemed to challenge you, the fleeting brush of his fingers, and that mysterious injury. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something much deeper beneath his calm exterior.

Meanwhile, back in his dorm, Chishiya leaned against his desk, his eyes staring blankly at the wall. He replayed your expression in his mind—the way your eyes had widened in recognition, the hesitation that lingered there. He remembered seeing you in the crowd that night, the way your gaze had locked onto him after his victory. Even then, something about the way you looked at him had stood out, different from the others. And today, in the library, the way you caught sight of his injury—he knew you were connecting the dots. It was unexpected, the way you seemed to see past the mask he wore. Most people never got that far, dismissing him as either a prodigy or an enigma without much thought. But you had looked closer, and something about that made it difficult for him to brush off the encounter.

Chishiya exhaled sharply, pushing himself away from the desk. He couldn't afford to let his focus slip, not when there was so much at stake—his freedom, his independence, the fragile balance of the double life he had built. Any slip could mean exposure, and exposure would mean losing everything he had fought so hard to keep hidden. But still, the memory of your gaze kept creeping back, making him wonder if maybe, just maybe, someone like you could be a problem—or something else entirely.

[imaginesforfandom]

A Wolverine's Heartache - Part III

Part I Part II

i'm so sorry it took so long for me to post this!! i've been drowning in work :,(

Logan/James Howlett x Reader

She/Her pronouns used!!

Summary: Logan struggles after seeing a person he loves alive. Will he be able to save her?

In the moments leading up to Logan's journey back in time, the Xavier Institute was a hub of frantic activity, a beacon of hope in the face of impending doom. The threat of the Sentinels loomed large, casting a shadow of fear and uncertainty over the mutant community.

Logan, haunted by the memory of Y/N's tragic death and driven by a desperate need to prevent further loss, had become the linchpin in a daring plan to alter the course of history. With the help of Professor Xavier and a handful of trusted allies, Logan prepared to embark on a mission that would defy the very fabric of time itself.

The decision to send Logan back in time was not made lightly. It required sacrifices – sacrifices that weighed heavily on the hearts of those left behind. Yet, in the face of imminent destruction, there was no room for hesitation.

As Logan stood before the makeshift time-travel device, his resolve hardened like steel. The weight of his mission bore down on him, a burden he carried with grim determination. He knew the risks – the possibility of altering the timeline, of facing enemies both old and new – but the chance to rewrite history and save those he loved was a gamble he was willing to take.

Before he could second-guess himself, Logan braced himself for the journey ahead. With a final glance at his comrades, a silent promise etched in his eyes, he stepped into the swirling vortex of energy, disappearing into the unknown depths of the past.

In that pivotal moment, the fate of the world hung in the balance. For Logan, it was a journey fraught with peril and uncertainty, but it was also a journey fueled by hope – hope for redemption, for a chance to right the wrongs of the past, and for a future where Y/N's death would be nothing more than a distant memory.

As Logan's consciousness shifted through time, propelled back to a pivotal moment before the devastation wrought by the Sentinels, a sense of urgency gripped him like a vice. His mission was clear: to prevent the cataclysmic events that had led to Y/N's tragic demise.

Arriving in the past, Logan found himself in a world that was both familiar and yet subtly different. The Xavier Institute bustled with life, its halls alive with the laughter of students and the gentle hum of telepathic conversations. But for Logan, it was a world tinged with sorrow, a reminder of the losses he had endured.

As he navigated the bustling corridors, searching for allies to aid him in his quest, Logan's heart quickened at the thought of encountering Y/N. She existed in this timeline, vibrant and alive, yet unaware of the role she would play in shaping their shared destiny.

When Logan finally came face to face with Y/N, his breath caught in his throat. She was different here – a younger version of the person he had known, her features softened by innocence and untainted by the scars of war. And yet, there was an undeniable familiarity in her presence, a connection that transcended the boundaries of time.

As their eyes met, Logan felt a surge of emotions wash over him – longing, regret, and a fierce determination to protect her at all costs. In that fleeting moment, he saw echoes of the Y/N he had lost, a reminder of the bond they had shared across time and space.

But for Y/N, Logan was a stranger – a mysterious figure with haunted eyes and a sense of purpose that seemed to emanate from his very being. And yet, there was something in his gaze, a depth of emotion that stirred something within her – a feeling she couldn't quite place.

As Logan reached out to Y/N, his hand trembling with the weight of unspoken truths, he knew that convincing her to join him would be no easy task. But for Y/N, Logan's presence ignited a spark of curiosity, a whisper of destiny that beckoned her towards a future she could not yet fathom.

As Logan stood before the younger version of Y/N, his heart clenched with a mixture of emotions – longing, regret, and an urgent sense of purpose. He knew that convincing her of the impending danger would be no easy task, especially considering she had no recollection of their shared history.

Y/N regarded him with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion, her brows furrowed in confusion. "Who are you?" she demanded, her voice tinged with a hint of defiance.

Logan took a deep breath, steeling himself for the difficult task ahead. "I know this is hard to believe, but you need to listen to me. I'm from the future, and I've seen what happens if we don't act now."

Y/N's eyes widened in disbelief, a scoff escaping her lips. "From the future? That's impossible. Why should I trust you?"

Logan knew he had to choose his words carefully, to break through the wall of skepticism that surrounded her. "I know this is a lot to take in, but I've seen the devastation caused by the Sentinels. They've hunted us down, taken everything from us. If we don't stop them now, there won't be a future for any of us."

Y/N's expression softened slightly, but her hesitation remained palpable. "And why should I believe you? You could be anyone, spinning tales to manipulate me."

Logan's jaw tightened with frustration, but he forced himself to remain calm. He understood her skepticism – after all, he was asking her to believe in the impossible. "I understand your doubts, but you have to trust me. Lives are at stake here, including yours. We need to work together to stop this."

Y/N's gaze flickered with uncertainty, torn between disbelief and a nagging sense of curiosity. She wanted to dismiss Logan's words as the ramblings of a madman, but there was something in his eyes – a depth of sincerity that gave her pause.

As Logan pleaded with her to heed his warning, Y/N felt a surge of conflicting emotions wash over her – fear, anger, and a flicker of hope. In that moment of uncertainty, she grappled with the weight of the decision before her, knowing that the fate of the world rested in her hands – and in the hands of the enigmatic stranger who claimed to hold the key to their salvation.

The moment hung suspended in time, a fragile balance between doubt and determination. Y/N stood before Logan, her gaze locked with his, uncertainty etched into the lines of her face. Logan's plea echoed in the air, a whispered promise of redemption and salvation, and for a fleeting instant, Y/N hesitated.

But then, something shifted within her – a spark of resolve that ignited in the depths of her soul. It was a quiet realization, born from the depths of her own courage and fueled by the unwavering belief that together, they could make a difference.

With a steadying breath, Y/N met Logan's gaze, her voice steady despite the turmoil raging within her. "Alright. I'll help you."

The words hung in the air like a beacon of hope, a testament to the strength of her conviction. In that moment, a weight lifted from Logan's shoulders, replaced by a surge of gratitude and relief. He had expected resistance, perhaps even outright rejection, but Y/N's willingness to trust him filled him with a sense of purpose unlike anything he had ever known.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the tension reached its peak in the crowded conference room, Logan and Y/N moved with precision and determination, their eyes locked in silent communication. They had trained for this moment, prepared for the pivotal role they would play in altering the course of history.

Amidst the chaos, Mystique, disguised as a government official, made her move, her gun trained on Trask, the architect of the Sentinel program. But before she could pull the trigger, Logan sprang into action, his instincts honed by years of combat.

With a swift motion, he intercepted Mystique's shot, deflecting the bullet away from its intended target. The room erupted into chaos as panic spread like wildfire, but Logan remained focused, his gaze never wavering from Mystique's determined form.

Beside him, Y/N moved with a grace and precision that belied her years, her powers weaving through the air like a symphony of light and shadow. With a flick of her wrist, she immobilized Mystique, her telekinetic abilities holding her captive in a shimmering cocoon of energy.

As the dust settled and order was restored, Logan and Y/N shared a fleeting glance, a silent acknowledgment of the pivotal role they had played in preventing catastrophe. In that moment, the bond between them deepened, forged in the crucible of adversity.

But as they stood amidst the aftermath of their actions, a sense of uncertainty lingered in the air. The future remains uncertain, and the threat of the Sentinels still loomed large. Yet, for the first time in a long time, Logan allowed himself to feel a glimmer of hope – a hope that with Y/N by his side, they could face whatever challenges lay ahead, together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Logan's consciousness shifted back to the future, his senses reeled from the disorienting transition. The world around him was a blur of chaos and destruction, the aftermath of the battle against the Sentinels evident in the smoldering ruins that surrounded him. But amidst the devastation, one sight stood out like a beacon of light in the darkness.

There, among the ragged survivors, stood Y/N – her presence a ray of hope amidst the despair. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as Logan's gaze locked onto her familiar form, his heart swelling with a mixture of relief and gratitude.

Without hesitation, he moved towards her, his steps fueled by an overwhelming urge to reach her side. As he drew closer, their eyes met, and in that instant, a flood of emotions washed over him – longing, regret, and a fierce determination to protect her at all costs.

Unable to resist any longer, Logan closed the distance between them in a single stride, his arms enveloping Y/N in a tight embrace. It was a gesture born from the depths of his soul, a silent vow to never let her go again.

In that poignant moment, as Logan's arms enveloped Y/N in a tight embrace amidst the wreckage of their war-torn world, a whirlwind of emotions stirred within him, threatening to overwhelm his senses.

First and foremost was an overwhelming sense of relief – relief that Y/N was alive and standing before him, a beacon of hope amidst the devastation. The mere sight of her, her presence a comforting reminder of their shared history and the bond they had forged, filled his heart with a profound sense of gratitude.

But alongside relief, there was also a deep-seated longing – a longing for the lost time, for the moments they had shared before the world had descended into chaos. Seeing Y/N again awakened a flood of memories, memories of laughter and camaraderie, of unspoken connections and shared moments that now felt like distant echoes in the wake of tragedy.

Mixed with longing was a potent undercurrent of regret – regret for the pain and suffering they had endured, for the lives lost and the futures stolen. Logan couldn't help but wonder if there was more he could have done, if he could have somehow prevented the devastation that had torn them apart.

Yet, amidst the tumult of emotions, there was also a fierce determination – a determination to protect Y/N at all costs, to ensure that she would never again face the horrors of war alone. In that moment, as he held her close, Logan made a silent vow to do whatever it took to keep her safe, to carve out a future where they could finally find peace.

And underlying it all was a profound sense of love – a love that transcended time and space, a love that had endured despite the odds. In Y/N's arms, Logan found solace amidst the chaos, a glimmer of hope in a world consumed by darkness.

After the embrace had ended, Logan held onto Y/N's hands tightly, his gaze locking with hers with a newfound intensity. In that moment, the weight of his unspoken emotions pressed heavily upon him, urging him to finally lay bare the truth that had long been buried within his heart.

"Y/N," he began, his voice rough with emotion, "I… I need you to know something. I've been a fool, blind to what's been right in front of me all along."

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, her heart fluttering with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension. She waited with bated breath as Logan continued, his words carrying the weight of a lifetime's worth of regrets.

"I love you, Y/N," Logan confessed, his voice barely above a whisper but filled with an undeniable sincerity. "I've loved you for longer than I care to admit, but I was too damn stubborn to see it. I let my fears and insecurities cloud my judgment, and for that, I'm sorry."

Tears welled in Y/N's eyes at Logan's confession, her heart swelling with a rush of emotions she could hardly comprehend. In that moment, the walls she had built around her heart crumbled, leaving her vulnerable but unafraid.

"Logan," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion, "I love you too. I've loved you for as long as I can remember, but I was too afraid to say it. Too afraid of what it might mean, of what we might lose."

Their hands tightened around each other's, a silent vow passing between them. In that shared moment of vulnerability, Logan and Y/N laid bare their hearts, their love for each other a beacon of hope in a world shrouded in darkness.

And as they stood together, tears mingling with smiles, they knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as they were together, they would face them with unwavering courage and unyielding love. For in each other's arms, they had found a home – a sanctuary amidst the chaos, where their love could flourish and grow stronger with each passing day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

again, i'm so sorry it took me so long!!! this term has been so exhausting :,(

i really hope you guys liked the final part!! i hadn't meant to make it this long but i got a little carried away lol. i know it's not fully canon to the movies, sorry bout that.

[renthony]

Nov. 21, 2024:

The national furor in recent years around banning books on race and gender in public schools is intensifying as President-elect Donald Trump threatens to shut down the Department of Education, emboldening conservatives to end “wokeness” in classrooms. Battles over books in school libraries have become emblematic of the country’s larger culture wars over race, historical revisionism and gender identity. A new report by PEN America found book bans increased by nearly 200% during the 2023-24 school year, including titles on sexuality, substance abuse, depression and other issues students face in an age of accelerating technologies, climate change, toxic politics and fears about the future. Book censorship has shaken and divided school boards, pitted parents against parents, and led to threats against teachers and librarians. It is part of an agenda driven by conservative parental rights groups and politicians who promote charter schools and voucher systems that could weaken public education. The issue goes to the heart not only of what students are taught but how federal and state education policies will affect the nation’s politics after one of the most consequential elections in its history.

Read the rest from the Los Angeles Times.

[madphantom]

Day one of shooting my vampire movie is through so here's a brief summary + a few anecdotes:

We shot most of it in a film studio on top of a hill. The original plan was that my beloved and I would be driven there by the sound technician and the others would take the bus and then be led to the studio from the bus stop by our production manager, however the lighting supervisor was at the studio early and the production manager got so invested in setting up the lighting with her that he straight up forgot about the actors. Luckily, among the others there were a handful who knew where the studio was and successfully led the rest there

The camera operator did NOT know where the studio was and spent fifteen minutes looking for it during which I almost had a nervous breakdown because I thought he'd forgotten about the shoot.

One of my friends, who is a biology student, hung out on set, and when I asked her what the realistic amount of blood for a cut on your hands would be she pulled up an actual photo of her bloodied hands after cutting herself.

My beloved, the lead actor, told our lighting supervisor that she looked like a mushroom because she'd tucked her hoodie into her leggings. She proceeded to ask my biology friend whether her outfit was really that bad and got really insecure before my beloved rushed to explain that it was a joke and he's just a bit of a cunt and also not used to people taking his opinion seriously

One of the extras was a girl who had given us tarot readings at a Halloween party two days earlier and she prophesied to my beloved that he would live to see the communist revolution. As a communist he was happy to hear that.

We shot two dialogue scenes in the studio bathroom and I think by the end of it everyone was a little insane. The bathroom was lit up purple and there was a stroboscopic party light in the corner of the room which drove specifically my beloved completely crazy. After a while he started putting his foot over it between takes.

My beloved stubbornly claimed that he's awful at memorizing dialogue but this was legitimately the fastest we've ever recorded any dialogue. The maximum we needed was four takes, for the entire scene in one piece. In the first movie by the Film Factory I've ever been in I once had to record a single line of dialogue 26 times.

This is the first Film Factory production since I joined the team which features legitimate onscreen kissing and heavily implies offscreen sex. One production before I joined had a sex scene, but the actress in it demanded to have it cut afterwards, and ever since the team has just kind of been careful, and besides we're all too awkward to start kissing the homies. We've had offscreen making out in one film, but that wasn't full on kissing.

We shot a scene in which the main character breaks a bottle, and my beloved brought along two identical bottles for it, one intact, the other in shards. Because they've been dusting away in his kitchen for ages he cleaned the mouthpiece of one so he could pretend to drink from it, then promptly smashed the wrong one and had to drink from the one he left dirty. He wasn't too pleased.

As soon as the shoot was over I started feeling ill, and on the train ride home my beloved also started feeling ill, so we immediately took an eleven hour fever nap when we got home and spent the entire next day taking ibuprofen together and binging season four of Peaky Blinders.

The next day of shooting is coming up on Saturday so stay tuned!

[perfectsunlight]

14 ⸺ JISOO

warnings: emotional cheating, closeted affection, jealousy, rejection

word count: 2.4k

part of the series: LOGICAL

kim jisoo knew who she was at an early age. the kims practically gave her everything on a silver platter, allowing her to have whatever she desired, whenever she wanted. being an only child, she grew up in a world where elegance and grace were as natural as breathing. her parents, prominent figures in business and law, ensured she had the best education, the finest clothes, and exposure to high society from the moment she could walk.

from the time they first met in 5th grade, chaeyoung was mesmerized by jisoo. 

even as children, jisoo exuded a rare kind of perfection—graceful, polite, and effortlessly charming. chaeyoung, too, came from wealth, her family owning a chain of prestigious hotels known for their opulence and impeccable service. yet, despite their similar backgrounds, chaeyoung felt as if jisoo was a princess from another planet.

“i like your headband,” chaeyoung timidly complimented as she looked at jisoo who was standing beside her. it was after school and the two girls were waiting for their drivers to pick them up. the raven haired girl slowly turned with a smile.

jisoo’s smile was warm, but her reply was as brief as ever. “thanks,” she said softly, her eyes flickering with a hint of curiosity as she took in chaeyoung’s earnest expression.

embarrassed by her own audacity, the young girl cast her gaze downward, fiddling with the straps of her backpack. chaeyoung had summoned all her courage to speak to jisoo, but now that she had, she didn’t know what more to say. still, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the delicate features of the girl beside her—the way the sunlight caught in jisoo’s dark hair, the slight breeze that played with the edges of her school uniform.

out of the corner of her eye, chaeyoung saw jisoo reach up and touch her headband self-consciously. it was a simple accessory, yet it looked effortlessly stylish on jisoo, complementing her perfectly.

“here,” jisoo said suddenly, surprising the other girl. she gently slid the headband off her own head and offered it to chaeyoung. “you can have it. it suits you.”

chaeyoung’s heart fluttered with a mixture of gratitude and nervousness. she hesitated for a moment, then carefully accepted the headband from jisoo’s outstretched hand. “thank you,” she murmured, her cheeks flushing pink with pleasure.

jisoo nodded in response, her smile widening just a fraction before she glanced down the street where her chauffeur-driven car was pulling up. “i have to go,” she said softly, her voice carrying a hint of regret. with a small wave, she turned and walked towards the waiting car.

chaeyoung watched jisoo’s retreating figure, clutching the headband in her hand as if it were a precious gift. 

in high school, chaeyoung and jisoo continued to move in similar circles, their paths intersecting in classrooms, at school events, and occasionally in the corridors between classes. despite being in different social circles—jisoo effortlessly popular and chaeyoung finding her niche among athletes—they still often spoke with each other.

park chaeyoung had grown into her own during high school. she was no longer the shy girl who could barely muster a compliment; she had become a confident and accomplished volleyball player, known for her tenacity on the court and her warmth off of it. her classmates admired her athletic prowess and her easy going nature, but the blonde remained focused on her studies and sports, always trying to excel in both realms.

jisoo, on the other hand, continued to excel in academics and extracurricular activities with an effortless grace that seemed to defy the usual high school dramas. she was involved in student government, led various school initiatives, and was often seen at social events surrounded by friends and admirers. 

despite her outward success, jisoo remained somewhat reserved, her interactions with others polite but distant.

it was during their sophomore year that chaeyoung began to realize her feelings for jisoo were deeper than mere admiration. she found herself lingering in hallways just to catch a glimpse of jisoo passing by, or scrolling through her parent’s socials to see glimpses of her in their posts.

her heart raced whenever jisoo smiled at her or spoke to her in passing, and chaeyoung would replay those brief moments in her mind, searching for hidden meanings in jisoo’s words and gestures.

it was also around this time that chaeyoung started to notice her attraction towards girls in general. 

she had always felt a sense of closeness with her female friends, but now there was a newfound awareness—a fluttering in her stomach when she saw certain girls, a quickening of her pulse when they brushed against each other during practice or shared a laugh over lunch.

but there was also something else that she soon quickly discovered about her feelings.

chaeyoung had found out jisoo was attending one of her volleyball games. it was the most anticipated game of the season so far, and the blonde was eager to not only win, but to impress jisoo with her skills on the court. as the game progressed, the athlete couldn't help but steal glances at her crush in the stands. she spotted her amidst the crowd, looking as effortlessly elegant as ever, her eyes focused intently on the game.

with each spike and serve, chaeyoung poured her heart into the game, fueled by a desire to impress jisoo. she felt a surge of adrenaline every time she scored a point, her determination driving her team towards victory.

after a particularly intense rally that ended in a spectacular kill from chaeyoung, she glanced up at the stands, catching jisoo’s eye. to her surprise and delight, jisoo smiled—a genuine, heartfelt smile that reached her eyes and made chaeyoung’s heart skip a beat.

the game ended in a resounding victory for their own team, and the blonde was engulfed in hugs and congratulations from her teammates. as she made her way through the crowd, she saw kim jisoo standing near the exit. her heart raced with a mix of excitement and nervousness as she approached.

but her footsteps slowly came to a halt when she saw the group of people surrounding the girl she liked. 

the crowd of fans and players started to gather more, congratulating the athlete and vying for jisoo's attention. amid the chaos, a guy from the opposing team’s school walked up to jisoo, striking up a conversation. chaeyoung's heart sank as she saw the boy laugh at something jisoo said, placing a hand on her arm in a gesture that felt far too close for the blonde’s liking.

a pang of jealousy hit the volleyball player hard. she clenched her fists, trying to suppress the emotions swirling inside her. without another word, she clenched her sports bag and turned and walked past jisoo, her steps quickening as she sought to escape the scene that was causing her so much pain.

jisoo noticed chaeyoung's sudden departure and quickly excused herself from the conversation. she followed the blonde, weaving through the bustling crowd until she found her sitting alone in a quiet hallway near the fire escape, her head resting against the cool wall, eyes closed.

“chaeyoung?”

the mentioned girl opened her eyes, her expression a mix of surprise and sadness. “oh,” she replied softly, not meeting jisoo's gaze. “hi.”

“you look upset,” jisoo said, concern evident in her tone. “everything okay?”

“i just needed some air," the blonde muttered, her voice barely above a whisper as she leaned her chin against her knees. 

without another word, the school’s sweetheart took a seat next to her. chaeyoung felt her stomach doing flips at the smell of jisoo’s signature perfume filling her senses. the silence between them was heavy, filled with unspoken emotions and lingering tension. chaeyoung's mind raced, unsure of how to express the storm of feelings inside her. she wanted to tell jisoo everything, to spill her heart out, but the words seemed stuck in her throat.

“i only came to see you play,” jisoo said softly, her words simple but filled with sincerity. it tore the athlete away and out of her own thoughts, causing her breath to hitch and her heartbeat to quicken.

“wait, really?”

the kim heiress nodded, a small, reassuring smile playing on her lips. she could see the confusion written all over the other girl's face. “of course. i wanted to see you play.”

the blonde felt herself biting her lower lip, the overwhelming emotion too much to contain. she wanted to say something, to tell jisoo how much those words meant to her, but before she could, jisoo leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to her cheek.

the kiss was soft and fleeting, but it sent a jolt of warmth through chaeyoung's entire being. as jisoo pulled back, she gave chaeyoung's hand one last gentle squeeze before standing up.

“good job today.” jisoo said quietly, her smile lingering before she turned and walked away, leaving chaeyoung alone in the hallway. 

they never dated at all, jisoo couldn’t afford tainting her image at all. she became increasingly absorbed in her responsibilities and expectations. the pressures of her family legacy left little room for personal matters, and any potential relationship between her and chaeyoung remained unspoken and unexplored.

however, the two remained extremely close. chaeyoung would often sleepover at jisoo’s house, where the two would occasionally kiss and hold hands secretly while her parents were away. sometimes, they’d even go out together on dates.

well, jisoo never called them dates, but the chaeyoung always felt like they were. it was nice, it was intimate, and it was everything the blonde could ever want. but all of that changed once jisoo got into ygu’s renowned criminal justice program. 

determined to keep jisoo close, she made a decision that would shape her future. 

she tried out for ygu's volleyball team, pouring all her energy and skill into making the cut. the thought of attending the same university as jisoo, of keeping those precious memories alive, fueled her every move on the court.

when she received her acceptance letter and learned she had made the team, the blonde felt a mixture of excitement and anxiety. she was thrilled to be at ygu, to be near jisoo, but she also knew that jisoo's life had become increasingly focused on her future place in the kim family business.

despite the changes, chaeyoung clung to the hope that their bond would remain strong. she often sought out jisoo on campus, relishing their conversations and the brief moments of closeness they shared. 

however, it was clear that jisoo's feelings had shifted, her attention consumed by her demanding studies and ambitious career plans.

chaeyoung sat at a table, her books spread out before her, but her attention was focused on jisoo, who sat across from her, engrossed in her studies. despite her own assignments, she found herself captivated by the sight of jisoo's determined expression, her brow furrowed in concentration as she diligently worked through her notes.

the volleyball player couldn't help but admire jisoo's dedication and intelligence. she had always been drawn to jisoo's strength and ambition for years now, but now, at university, those qualities seemed even more pronounced. the blonde watched jisoo for what felt like hours, the world around her fading into the background.

“chaeyoung?” jisoo's voice broke through her reverie. the mentioned girl blinked, snapping out of her trance. 

“hmm?”

dark irises looked up from her notes, a small smile playing on jisoo’s lips. “you've been staring at me for the past fifteen minutes. everything okay?”

chaeyoung felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment. she hated how obvious she was sometimes. 

“sorry, i was just thinking.”

jisoo chuckled softly as she thumbed through a few pages of her notes, still stealing a few glances at the girl in front of her. 

“about?”

taking a deep breath, chaeyoung decided it was now or never. she leaned forward slightly, her voice barely above a whisper. “jisoo, i still have feelings for you.”

jisoo's smile faltered, her expression turning serious. she quickly glanced around the library, ensuring they weren't being overheard, before focusing back on chaeyoung. “chaeyoung, we've talked about this–”

“i know, i know.” the athlete quickly responded, putting her hands up in defense, “but i can’t help how i feel. jisoo, i still like you. you’re always on my mind.”

the heiress sighed, her eyes softening with sympathy. “look, i care about you a lot. you’re my best friends, and i don’t want to lose that. but my priorities have changed. my family expects so much from me, and i need to focus on my studies and my future career.”

the athlete nodded, her heart heavy with the weight of her own emotions. all she could do was sit there and think to herself: i’d wait forever for you, kim jisoo. even if it means just being your friend now, i’d wait until you’re ready.

chaeyoung kept her word, but she was growing quite discouraged with the lack of affection from jisoo. she wanted jisoo to be obsessed with her, just like how she was with her. everything in the athlete’s mind was full of jisoo, even in the simplest things.

but then there was lisa.

lalisa, with her infectious energy and unwavering attention, became a bright spot in chaeyoung's life. despite having a girlfriend, lisa made no secret of her affection for chaeyoung, often texting her late at night, sharing inside jokes, and spending every available moment with her. lisa didn’t see it as cheating—she saw it as a deep friendship.

chaeyoung, on the other hand, reveled in the attention. she loved how lisa was obsessed with her, how she made her feel special and important. it was something she desperately craved from jisoo but rarely received.

“do you ever think about what we’re doing?” chaeyoung asked suddenly, her voice tinged with uncertainty. “i mean, you’ve got a girlfriend and all.”

lisa shrugged, her smile never wavering. she nudged the blonde gently, “we’re just close friends, right? i don’t see anything wrong with that,” the thai girl took a sip of her water before continuing to speak.

“besides, you make me happy, chaeyoung.”

chaeyoung's heart fluttered at lisa’s words. she loved the attention, the way lisa’s eyes lit up when she saw her, the way she made her feel special. but deep down, her heart still ached for jisoo, the girl who held her heart captive for so long.

“yeah, i guess you’re right,” chaeyoung replied, trying to push aside the lingering guilt. she didn’t care if it was selfish, she was going to do what made her happy. and right now, she could have her happiness, even if it came at the expense of someone else's.

TAGLIST ⸺ ✭ @silantryoo @rosiehrs @niniwhiskers @cwpiqwon @jisooftme @1luvkarina @scarfac3 @santasbitch @lisas-earlobe @wallfl9wer @aerihiltonn @unforgivenangel @uzumakioden @skydreamed @haerinfangs @la-douleur-ne-finit-jamais @haerinkisser @giginings @lilsvx @milanlaia @pandafuriosa60 @wifey-badalee @slowlyturninggay291 @dreamingst99 @7daysronnie

CLOSED.

[covid-safer-hotties]

Also preserved in our archive

A new study by researchers at Zhejiang University has highlighted the disproportionate health challenges faced by sexual and gender-diverse (SGD) individuals during the COVID-19 pandemic. By analyzing over 471 million tweets using advanced natural language processing (NLP) techniques, the study reveals that SGD individuals were more likely to discuss concerns related to social connections, mask-wearing, and experienced higher rates of COVID-19 symptoms and mental health issues than non-SGD individuals. The study has been published in the journal Health Data Science.

The COVID-19 pandemic has exposed and intensified health disparities, particularly for vulnerable populations like the sexual and gender-diverse (SGD) community. Unlike traditional health data sources, social media provides a more dynamic and real-time reflection of public concerns and experiences. Zhiyun Zhang, a Ph.D. student at Zhejiang University, and Jie Yang, Assistant Professor at the same institution, led a study that analyzed large-scale Twitter data to understand the unique challenges faced by SGD individuals during the pandemic.

To address this, the research team used NLP methods such as Latent Dirichlet Allocation (LDA) models for topic modeling and advanced sentiment analysis to evaluate the discussions and concerns of SGD Twitter users compared to non-SGD users. This approach allowed the researchers to explore three primary questions: the predominant topics discussed by SGD users, their concerns about COVID-19 precautions, and the severity of their symptoms and mental health challenges.

The findings reveal significant differences between the two groups. SGD users were more frequently involved in discussions about "friends and family" (20.5% vs. 13.1%) and "wearing masks" (10.1% vs. 8.3%). They also expressed higher levels of positive sentiment toward vaccines such as Pfizer, Moderna, AstraZeneca, and Johnson & Johnson. The study found that SGD individuals reported significantly higher frequencies of both physical and mental health symptoms compared to non-SGD users, underscoring their heightened vulnerability during the pandemic.

"Our large-scale social media analysis highlights the concerns and health challenges of SGD users. The topic analysis showed that SGD users were more frequently involved in discussions about 'friends and family' and 'wearing masks' than non-SGD users. SGD users also expressed a higher level of positive sentiment in tweets about vaccines," said Zhiyun Zhang, the lead researcher. "These insights emphasize the importance of targeted public health interventions for SGD communities."

The study demonstrates the potential of using social media data to monitor and understand public health concerns, especially for marginalized communities like SGD individuals. The results suggest the need for more tailored public health strategies to address the unique challenges faced by SGD communities during pandemics.

Moving forward, the research team aims to develop an automated pipeline to continuously monitor the health of targeted populations, offering data-driven insights to support more comprehensive public health services.

More information: Zhiyun Zhang et al, Sexual and Gender-Diverse Individuals Face More Health Challenges during COVID-19: A Large-Scale Social Media Analysis with Natural Language Processing, Health Data Science (2024). DOI: 10.34133/hds.0127 spj.science.org/doi/10.34133/hds.0127

[crimsonrose34]

Dorm Theme:

The dorm would embody an Enchanted Gothic style with undertones of vanity, manipulation, and the pursuit of eternal youth

Core Values:

Charm

Ambition

Resourcefulness

Much like how Mother Gothel used her cunning to preserve her youth, the students of nightshade strive to achieve their goals through charm and manipulation.

Dorm special members

Rose valentine

Alaric Valentine

Adrian valentine

Lucian Ryder

Camille Verdant

Yuu (MC)

Grim

Dorm lore

The dorm lore revolves around a legendary golden flower that granted beauty and life to a forgotten queen. However, her obsession led to the flower’s corruption, creating the cursed Bloom of Eternity. Students in nightshade are fascinated with stories of its magic, driven to pursue eternal perfection — metaphorical or otherwise.

Key Dorm Traits:

1. Charm and Wit: Students of nightshade excel in persuasion and strategy

2. Ambition: They have an insatiable drive for perfection, beauty, and power.

3. Mystery and Manipulation: Their demeanor often hides

Dorm Rules

The students of Nightshade live by a strict set of rules that reflect the nature of the dorm and its members' personalities. Breaking these rules can lead to severe consequences, sometimes even expulsion from the dorm.

1. Loyalty Above All Else

All students must maintain loyalty to the dorm leader and their fellow dormmates.

Any act of betrayal, such as revealing secrets or aiding rivals, is considered a serious offense and can result in immediate expulsion.

2. Secrets Are Power

Students are prohibited from sharing the dorm’s secrets or plans with anyone outside.

Each student is responsible for guarding their personal secrets, as revealing them could be used against them by others or by enemies.

3. Charisma Is Strength

Students are encouraged to use intelligence and charisma to solve problems rather than relying on brute force.

Any student who resorts to violence without strategic planning is considered unworthy of bearing the name of Nightshade.

4. Beauty Reflects Status

All students must take care of their appearance and dress in a way that always reflects the dorm's elegance.

Neglecting one’s appearance is considered an unacceptable behavior, as outward beauty reflects inner strength and control.

5. Magic Should Be Used Wisely

Magic is only allowed within the dorm for training or defense purposes.

Excessive or destructive use of magic is seen as a threat to the dorm and will be punished.

Special Events in Nightshade

1. "Reflection of Truth" Ceremony

This annual event takes place in the dorm’s grand hall.

A magical mirror is placed in the center of the hall, known for its ability to reveal the deepest intentions and true nature of the students.

Every student must look into the mirror during the ceremony to test their sincerity toward the dorm and their personal goals.

If the mirror reveals treacherous or deceitful intentions, the student is immediately isolated for investigation.

2. "Cursed Flower Challenge"

An annual competition between the dorms to find a hidden magical golden flower deep within an enchanted forest near the dorm.

The forest is filled with traps, illusions, and magical creatures that try to prevent students from reaching the flower.

The student who successfully retrieves the flower is granted special status and becomes the "Guardian of the Flower" for the next year, earning privileges like increased influence within the dorm.

3. "Night of Shadows"

Held every month, this event gathers all students in the dorm for a secret meeting at midnight.

During this gathering, dorm plans and strategies against rival dorms are discussed, and new goals are set.

Each student is required to present an idea or plan that demonstrates their strategic thinking, with the best idea earning them a reward.

4. "Test of Temptation"

This unique test evaluates the students' persuasion and magical abilities.

Each student must engage with a magical creature (such as a spirit or enchanted being) and convince it to carry out a task without using force.

Points are awarded based on creativity, intelligence, and success in achieving the task.

5. "Eternal Melody Festival"

A festival held every three years in the dorm’s courtyard.

Musical and magical performances are presented, showcasing the students' skills in temptation and attraction.

The festival culminates in a special competition where each student chooses a magical song that demonstrates their power to influence others.

The winner is crowned the "Eternal Maestro" and receives a magical reward, such as a temporary enhancement of their power.

Punishments in Nightshade

1. The Meditation Room

Any student who breaks the rules is sent to the Meditation Room, a special room within the dorm.

The room is filled with mirrors that reflect the student’s worst fears, forcing them to confront their mistakes.

2. Loss of Privileges

Students found guilty of breaking the rules may lose privileges such as participation in special events or advanced magic training.

3. Temporary Exile

In extreme cases, a student may be exiled to the enchanted forest near the dorm for a full day, where they must face its challenges alone as punishment and a deterrent.

Logo

Some pics

Coming soon......

@moonyasnow @justyouraverageuselesshuman @shyx-prince @failing-life2 @angels14

[gooner-media]

Goo.ner Media: "Real Lives, Real Stories"

The Incident: A Bold Stand Against NMCA Legislation

In an audacious and highly organized effort, five young women aged 20 to 22 from Tokyo University not only staged a mass protest against the NMCA legislation but also engaged in acts of civil disobedience that captured national attention. Their actions, while driven by a desire for change, led to severe repercussions that turned them into a public spectacle.

As a result of their conspiracy, these women now face harsh punishments. They are prohibited from wearing any tops and must adhere to the NMCA dress code, which mandates that no more than half their diapers can be covered. For the remainder of their time at university, they are permitted to wear only their diapers, backpacks, socks, and shoes. Additionally, they endure a daily public bare-bottom spanking in the center of campus for the rest of the semester.

Meet the Protesters

1. Yui Tanaka, Age 22 Yui, a sociology student, is known for her outspoken views on human rights. She led the group in not only protesting but also staging a sit-in that blocked access to a government building, demanding the repeal of the NMCA.

2. Haruka Nakamura, Age 21 Haruka, an art major, created provocative art installations that were displayed in public spaces without permission. Her works criticized the NMCA and the government's overreach, sparking significant media attention.

3. Aki Yamamoto, Age 20 Aki, a political science student, orchestrated a hacking operation that temporarily took over a government website, displaying messages against the NMCA legislation. This act of cyber protest was pivotal in their severe punishment.

4. Emi Sato, Age 22 Emi, a literature student, wrote and distributed an underground pamphlet that criticized the NMCA and called for nationwide civil disobedience. Her writings were considered seditious and led to her being heavily penalized.

5. Mei Suzuki, Age 21 Mei, a psychology major, organized unauthorized public demonstrations and utilized social media to coordinate simultaneous protests across multiple campuses, defying government orders and regulations.

Consequences

The punishment imposed on these brave women is severe and serves as a deterrent to others who might consider challenging the NMCA legislation. Their daily public spankings and strict dress code enforcement are stark reminders of the government's zero-tolerance policy towards dissent.